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 Musical InstrumentsThis is my short narrative and relevant references from the Books where Musical Instruments are mentioned. I make no pronouncements on these matters, but report them as I find them. Arrive at your own conclusions. I wish you well, Fogaban Tarl says he has never seen a bowed instrument on Gor. He also says he has never seen sheet music. Songs and melodies tend to be handed down within the caste from father to son or master to apprentice. I have not attempted to list every imaginable variation of what a musical instrument might be. But I have listed quite a few.
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*Twice in the manuscript, later, Cabot refers to a "Flute Street." From the context it seems clear that this is "Aulus." I have accordingly edited the manuscript in the interests of consistency, changing "Flute Street" to "Aulus." My interpretation is supported by information supplied by a colleague in the Classics Department, to the effect that there is a Greek expression for a flute which might be transliterated as aulos. I think we may assume then, apart from contextual considerations, that "Aulus" and "Flute Street" are the same street. My conjecture is that aulos was absorbed into Gorean as 'Aulus'. An additional consideration is that "Aulus" is one of the streets bordering the great theater, that of Pentilicus Tallux. Flute music is apparently extremely important in Gorean theater. Indeed, we learn from Cabot's miscellaneous notes that the name of the flute player usually occurs on theatrical advertisements immediately after that of the major performer or performers. It seems the flute player is often on stage and accompanies performers about, pointing up speeches, supplying background music and such. This is accepted as Gorean theatrical convention, it seems, much as background music is accepted in Twentieth Century films, even in such unlikely locations as city streets, airplanes, life rafts and deserts. Various "modes" are supposed, as well, to elicit and express various emotions, some being appropriate for love scenes, others for battle scenes, etc. Lastly it might be mentioned that 'Aulus' can also occur as a Gorean masculine name. This sort of thing is familiar, of course, in all languages, as Smith, Cooper, Chandler, Carpenter, Carter, and such, stand for occupations, and names like Hampshire, Lake, Holm, Rivers, and such, stand for places, and names like Stone, Hammer, Rock, and such, stand for things. - J.N. "If it were night, indoors," said Kurik, "I would suppose any number of things, depending on the house, music, the kalika and czehar, the aulus and tabor, acrobats, jugglers, flute girls, eaters of fire, the reading of poetry the chanting of histories, professional tellers of stories, the singing and dancing of slaves, many things."
As I mused, Talena stepped forth from behind the silk curtain. I had thought she had retired. Instead, she stood before me in the diaphanous, scarlet dancing silks of Gor. She had rouged her lips. My head swam at the sudden intoxicating scent of a wild perfume. Her olive ankles bore dancing bangles with tiny bells. Attached to the thumb and index finger of each hand were tiny finger cymbals. She bent her knees ever so slightly and raised her arms gracefully above her head. There was a sudden bright clash of the finger cymbals, and, to the music of the nearby tent, Talena, daughter of the Ubar of Ar, began to dance for me. It was customary to find diversions other than Paga in the Paga Taverns, as well, but in gray Tharna the cymbals, drums and flutes of the musicians, the clashing of bangles on the ankles of dancing girls would be unfamiliar sounds. On some I could hear the movement of the necklaces of sleen teeth tied about their necks, the shivering and ringing of slender golden bangles on their tanned ankles. In their dance they danced among the staked-out bodies of the men of Marlenus, and about the great Ubar himself. Both of the women lay at his feet. Both would march nude, chained to the stirrup of his tharlarion, in his triumph in Ar. Both would later, in silks and bells, barefoot, in bangles and slave rouge, serve him in his pleasure gardens. Dancing for him, pouring him wine, serving his pleasure, perhaps together, both would much please him. Hura and Mira were lovely souvenirs of the northern forests, fitting mementos for the great Ubar; Low on her hips she wore, on a belt of rolled cloth, yellow dancing silk, in Turian drape, the thighs bare, the front right corner of the skirt thrust behind her to the left, the back left lower corner of the skirt thrust into the rolled belt at her right hip. She was barefoot; there were golden bangles, many of them, on her ankles, more on her left ankle. She wore a yellow-silk halter, hooked high, to accentuate the line of her beauty. She wore a gold, locked collar, and, looped about her neck, many light chains and pendants; on her wrists were many bracelets; on her upper arms, both left and right, were armlets, tight, there being again more on the left arm. She shook her head, her hair was loose. Her teacher was a cafe slave girl, Seleenya, rented from her master; her musicians were a flutist, hired early, and, later, a kaska player, to accompany him. Alyena now to a swirl of music spun before us, swept helpless with it, bangles clashing, to its climax. "What shall I do, Master?" she begged. She wore a golden metal dancing collar about her throat, golden chains looped from her wrists, gracefully to the collar ring, then fell to her ankles; there are varieties of Tahari dancing chains; she wore the oval and collar; briefly, in readying a girl, after she has been belled and silked, and bangled, and has been made up, and touched with slave perfume, "Dance, Slave," said Hassan. Had he wondered what she would look like, long ago, when she was his teacher, she wondered, if she were to so dance before him, barefoot, in a bit of swirling silk, in necklaces and coins, in armlets, with bracelets on her wrists and bangles on her ankles, to the flash of ringing zills, summoned, commanded, fearful, begging to please, his. There was the music of flutes, and a tabor, and one kalika, and a slave, she of one of Peisistratus' men, stamped her feet, and turned, and danced in the firelight. Bangles clashed upon her bared ankles. "I thought of myself, frequently enough, as a property, as owned, as a girl who must unquestioningly, fearfully, obey masters, who might dance for their pleasure, about campfires in lonely places, on streets in shabby districts, to a master's flute, on the decks of galleys, to the clapping of hands, on the floor of taverns, to music, silks swirling, bangles clashing, to shouts, to hands reaching for me, to the clash of goblets and the spilling of drink, to the cries of aroused men, pleased to look upon me as I would then be, a vulnerable, helpless slave, desperate to be found pleasing."
There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires,
"The medicine chief of the dance," said Cuwignaka. "This year it is Cancega, of the Casmu." 'Cancega', here, I think, would be best translated as "Drum." More literally, it is a skin stretched over a hoop. The expression 'cega', itself, may refer to a kettle, a pot, a pail, a bucket, or so on. 'Cancega', then, in a sense, could be taken to mean such things as "Kettle Skin," or "Pot Skin." The translation "Drum," all things considered, seems to be best in this context. I examined in dismay the beads about my neck, the cords at my waist, my barbarically adorned ankles and wrists, I touched my thighs, and lifted my arms, looking at them, and put my hands upon my body, as though I could not believe that it was unclothed. I pretended to shrink down within myself, to desire to crouch down, and conceal and cover my nudity, but then I straightened up, fearfully, as though I had heard commands to desist in such absurdities, and then I extended my hands to the sides, to various sides, as though pleading for mercy, to be released from the imperatives of the music, but then reacted, drawing back, as though I had seen the sight of whips or weapons. The kaska player, alert to this, reduced the volume of his drumming, and then, five times, smote hard upon the taut skin, almost like the cracking of a whip, to which I reacted, turning to one side and another, as though such a disciplinary device had been sounded menacingly, on all sides, in my vicinity, and then I continued to dance, helpless before the will of masters. Then, as the dance continued, I signified by expression and movement my curiosity and fascination with what I was being forced to do, and the responses of my body, reconciled now to its reality, helplessly obedient now to the music. I heard a drummer testing his instrument. I heard, too, some pipes. There was the sound of the flute and drum. There was the firelight, the men about, the enclosure, the Vosk in the background, the firelight and the slave. The two fellows who had supplied the music were silent. One wiped the flute, the other was addressing himself to the tabor, loosening some pegs, relaxing the tension of the drumhead. The drumhead is usually made of verrskin, as most often are wineskins. "Can they dance?" asked the burly fellow, as though his mind might not yet be made up. The taborist looked up. "Alas, no," cried Philebus, in mock dismay, "none of my girls are dancers!" The taborist continued his work. There was suddenly a pounding of drums, mighty drums. "Ai!" cried Cabot, startled. "That is not difficult to hear, is it?" smiled Peisistratus. There were twelve such drums, each with two drummers, in the first tier of the arena. "No," said Cabot. "There are twelve drums," said Peisistratus. "And there are twelve digits on the two forepaws of the Kur." "Each has two drummers," said Cabot. "The Kur has two eyes," said Peisistratus. "Hands and eyes." "I thought Kur music was silent, or almost so." "Certainly not silent to the hearing of the Kur," said Peisistratus. "But the drums may not even be understood as music. Those are arena drums, but there are also drums of war, of signaling, of formation, and so on." Cabot's blood began to race. Peisistratus, too, was effected by the beating. "It seems humans and Kurii share drums," said Cabot. "Drums," said Peisistratus, "speak to the blood, to the heart. They speak of the beat and insistence of life." "They are used on Gor to marshal and control tarn cavalries, and set the cadence of the wing beat, of the flight," said Cabot. "Certainly," said Peisistratus. "Is the sound not too loud for Kurii?" asked Cabot. "Apparently not," said Peisistratus. "Nor is the crash of thunder, the rolling of waves, the breaking of ice in a frozen river, the tumbling of the avalanche, the eruption of the volcano." "One gathers its loudness is stimulating." "Yes, and the rhythms," said Peisistratus. "They speak of blood, and life, and excitement," said Cabot. "They have their drums," said Peisistratus, "and we have ours, as well." "Yes," said Cabot, "of war, and the march, sometimes to measure the stroke of oars, occasionally to signal the opening and closing of markets, of gates, and such." "There are subtle drums, too, demanding, insistent, maddening, exciting, sensuous drums, of course," said Peisistratus. "True," said Cabot. This was presumably an allusion to the use of drums, together with other instruments, we may suppose, in slave dance, a form of dance in which a type of human female, the female slave, helpless and vulnerable, as all female slaves, ornamented, and beautifully if scarcely clothed, dances her beauty, hoping to be found pleasing by masters. If she is not, she knows she may be whipped, perhaps slain. The drums were suddenly silent. There was then a roll of drums, and all eyes turned to the seventh challenger, who now rose from his crouching position, to a height of some ten feet. There was then a sudden roll of drums. "What is it?" asked Cabot. "The climax of the festivities," said Peisistratus. Cast flowers and sprinkled perfumes, drummers and flautists, preceded her chair, borne by mighty slaves, flanked by liveried guardsmen. "A tabor is a drum," I said. I knew that a yearning slave, to one side lying in her chains, must often await the outcome of such a game There was music in the tavern, a czehar player, a drummer, utilizing the small tabor, two flautists, and a pair of kalika players. He with the czehar was the leader. That was common, as I was given to understand. I assessed him a very strong individual. He reminded me of the professional wrestlers who, with their troops, handlers, and drummers, sometimes visited the local villages and towns. The supper was pleasant and genteel, suitable for a quiet evening with friends. Nothing was boisterous or rowdy. The ka-la-nas were sparkling and mild, not the sort of coarse ka-la-nas commonly diluted in the wine crater, to a proportion agreed upon by guests, which only wild young men would be likely to drink unmixed, hailing one another with frightful jokes and bawdy songs, awaiting the arrival of the dancers and musicians, the drummers, the flute and kalika girls. The musicians arrived and took their places at the side of the dancing floor. There was a czehar player, two flutists, and a drummer, with the small tabor. They were followed by the taverner's man who had gone to fetch them. "There are no dancers," said the czehar player, who was the leader of the small group. "Ianthe and Aglaia are unavailable."
"Cotanka," said he, "of the Wismahi." As is often the case with the names of the red savages they do not translate simply and directly into a different language. The expression 'cotanka' usually designates a fife or flute, but it may also be used more broadly to refer to any wind instrument whatsoever. Given the cultural milieu involved and the narrower understanding of that expression within that milieu perhaps the best translation, supplying connotations familiar to the red savages, might be 'Love Flute'.
I could hear from a tent nearby the sound of a flute, some soft drums, and the rhythmic jangle of some tiny cymbals. As I mused, Talena stepped forth from behind the silk curtain. I had thought she had retired. Instead, she stood before me in the diaphanous, scarlet dancing silks of Gor. She had rouged her lips. My head swam at the sudden intoxicating scent of a wild perfume. Her olive ankles bore dancing bangles with tiny bells. Attached to the thumb and index finger of each hand were tiny finger cymbals. She bent her knees ever so slightly and raised her arms gracefully above her head. There was a sudden bright clash of the finger cymbals, and, to the music of the nearby tent, Talena, daughter of the Ubar of Ar, began to dance for me. She danced before me for several minutes, her scarlet dancing silks flashing in the firelight, her bare feet, with their belled ankles, striking softly on the carpet. With a last flash of the finger cymbals, she fell to the carpet before me, her breath hot and quick, her eyes blazing with desire. It was customary to find diversions other than Paga in the Paga Taverns, as well, but in gray Tharna the cymbals, drums and flutes of the musicians, the clashing of bangles on the ankles of dancing girls would be unfamiliar sounds. To one side, across a clearing from the fire, a bit in the background, was a group of nine musicians. They were not as yet playing, though one of them was absently tapping a rhythm on a small hand drum, the kaska; two others, with stringed instruments, were tuning them, putting their ears to the instruments. One of the instruments was an eight-stringed czehar, rather like a large flat oblong box; it is held across the lap when sitting cross-legged and is played with a horn pick; the other was the kalika, a six-stringed instrument; it, like the czehar, is flat-bridged and its strings are adjusted by means of small wooden cranks; on the other hand, it less resembles a low, flat box and suggests affinities to the banjo or guitar, though the sound box is hemispheric and the neck rather long; it, too, of course, like the czehar, is plucked; I have never seen a bowed instrument on Gor; also, I might mention, I have never on Gor seen any written music; I do not know if a notation exists; melodies are passed on from father to son, from master to apprentice. There was another kalika player, as well, but he was sitting there holding his instrument, watching the slave girls in the audience. The three flutists were polishing their instruments and talking together; it was shop talk I gathered, because one or the other would stop to illustrate some remark by a passage on his flute, and then one of the others would attempt to correct or improve on what he had done; occasionally their discussion grew heated. There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires, gourds filled with pebbles, slave bells mounted on hand rings, and such. These various things, from time to time, would be used not only by himself but by others in the group, probably the second kaska player and the third flutist. Among Gorean musicians, incidentally, czehar players have the most prestige; there was only one in this group, I noted, and he was their leader; next follow the flutists and then the players of the kalika; the players of the drums come next; and the farthest fellow down the list is the man who keeps the bag of miscellaneous instruments, playing them and parceling them out to others as needed. Lastly it might be mentioned, thinking it is of some interest, musicians on Gor are never enslaved; they may, of course, be exiled, tortured, slain and such; it is said, perhaps truly, that he who makes music must, like the tarn and the Vosk gull, be free. Under the torchlight Phyllis Robertson was now on her knees, the Warrior at her side, holding her behind the small of the back. Her head went farther back, as her hands moved on the arms of the Warrior, as though once to press him away, and then again to draw him closer, and her head then touched the furs, her body a cruel, helpless bow in his hands, and then, her head down, it seemed she struggled and her body straightened itself until she lay, save for her head and heels, on his hands clasped behind her back, her arms extended over her head to the fur behind her. At this point, with a clash of cymbals, both dancers remained immobile. Then, after this instant of silence under the torches, the music struck the final note, with a mighty and jarring clash of cymbals, and the Warrior had lowered her to the furs and her lips, arms about his neck, sought his with eagerness. Then, both dancers broke apart and the male stepped back, and Phyllis now stood, alone on the furs, sweating, breathing deeply, head down. We heard music in the distance, trumpets, drums and cymbals. We looked at one another, scarcely able to restrain ourselves. The drums, the cymbals, the trumpets, were now quite close. I lifted up an edge of the rain canvas and peeped through. Behind him came musicians, with their trumpets, and cymbals and drums. They, too, wore skins, and the heads of forest panthers. I heard the blare of the trumpets, the clash of the cymbals, the pounding of the drums. We heard the drums, the trumpets and clashing cymbals growing fainter, down the street, as the retinue continued on its way. The girl wore Gorean dancing silk. It hung low upon her bared hips, and fell to her ankles. It was scarlet, diaphanous. A front corner of the silk was taken behind her and thrust, loose and draped, into the rolled silk knotted about her hips; a back corner of the silk was drawn before her and thrust loosely, draped, into the rolled silk at her right hip. Low on her hips she wore a belt of small denomination, threaded, overlapping golden coins. A veil concealed her muchly from us, it thrust into the strap of the coined halter at her left shoulder, and into the coined belt at her right hip. On her arms she wore numerous armlets and bracelets. On the thumb and first finger of both her left and right hand were golden finger cymbals. On her throat was a collar. There was a clear note of the finger cymbals, sharp, delicate, bright, and the slave girl danced before us. The dancer's hands were at her thighs. She regarded them, angrily, and still she moved. Her shoulders lifted and fell; her hands touched her breasts and shoulders; her head was back, and then again she glared at the men, angrily. Her arms were high, very high. Her hips moved, swaying. Then, the music suddenly silent, she was absolutely still. Her left hand was at her thigh; her right high above her head; her eyes were on her hip; frozen into a hip sway; then there was again a bright, clear flash of the finger cymbals, and the music began again, and again she moved, helpless on the pole. Men threw coins at her feet. The belled left ankle of the dancer moved in a small circle on the mosaiced floor, to the ringing of the bells, and the counterpoint of the finger cymbals. She bent her knees, weight on her heels, lifted her hands, high over her head, wrists close together, back to back, on her thumbs and fingers, poised, tiny cymbals. I nodded to the musicians. The music began. There was a bright flash of the tiny finger cymbals and Alyena danced for us. I glanced within, for I heard from within the clash of slave bells and the bright sound of zills, or finger cymbals. Outside, in the canal traffic, I heard a drum, cymbals and trumpets, and a man shouting. "Do you know the use of finger cymbals?" he asked. "No, Master," I said. I did not know who "we" were. I did not understand where I was. Surely the common slave tunic, often of rep-cloth, was short enough, and well identified its occupant as a slave. At least it was usually of rep-cloth, or of some other cloth, such as the wool of the bounding hurt, and, even when of silk, it was seldom diaphanous. One could well imagine the reaction of free women to that! In the latter aspect, diaphanous, it was rather like the yellow or red dancing silk in which the tavern dancers swirled amidst their veils, their shimmering jewelries, often to the sparkle of finger cymbals. But he had unbuckled the curtain, departed, and yanked it shut behind him. I caught the briefest glimpse of tanned legs in the sand, each ankle ringed with slave bells, and a swirling skirt of scarlet dancing silk. I heard the jangle of jewelry, and the sudden, bright flash of finger cymbals. I heard men crying out, and pounding paga goblets on the tables.
To one side, across a clearing from the fire, a bit in the background, was a group of nine musicians. They were not as yet playing, though one of them was absently tapping a rhythm on a small hand drum, the kaska; two others, with stringed instruments, were tuning them, putting their ears to the instruments. One of the instruments was an eight-stringed czehar, rather like a large flat oblong box; it is held across the lap when sitting cross-legged and is played with a horn pick; the other was the kalika, a six-stringed instrument; it, like the czehar, is flat-bridged and its strings are adjusted by means of small wooden cranks; on the other hand, it less resembles a low, flat box and suggests affinities to the banjo or guitar, though the sound box is hemispheric and the neck rather long; it, too, of course, like the czehar, is plucked; I have never seen a bowed instrument on Gor; also, I might mention, I have never on Gor seen any written music; I do not know if a notation exists; melodies are passed on from father to son, from master to apprentice. There was another kalika player, as well, but he was sitting there holding his instrument, watching the slave girls in the audience. The three flutists were polishing their instruments and talking together; it was shop talk I gathered, because one or the other would stop to illustrate some remark by a passage on his flute, and then one of the others would attempt to correct or improve on what he had done; occasionally their discussion grew heated. There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires, gourds filled with pebbles, slave bells mounted on hand rings, and such. These various things, from time to time, would be used not only by himself but by others in the group, probably the second kaska player and the third flutist. Among Gorean musicians, incidentally, czehar players have the most prestige; there was only one in this group, I noted, and he was their leader; next follow the flutists and then the players of the kalika; the players of the drums come next; and the farthest fellow down the list is the man who keeps the bag of miscellaneous instruments, playing them and parceling them out to others as needed. Lastly it might be mentioned, thinking it is of some interest, musicians on Gor are never enslaved; they may, of course, be exiled, tortured, slain and such; it is said, perhaps truly, that he who makes music must, like the tarn and the Vosk gull, be free. Now that the sport was done some Musicians filed in, taking up positions to one side. There was a czehar player, two players of the kalika, four flutists and a pair of kaska drummers. A number of Musicians now filed out from the door at the foot of the block and took their places about it, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Those with string instruments began to tune them; there was a czehar player, the group's leader, some kalika players, some flutists, players of the kaska, small drums, and others. Each of these, in his way, prepared himself for the evening, sketching out melodies or sound patterns, lost with himself. "Yes," said Samos. He clapped his hands. Immediately the girl stood beautifully, alert, before us, her arms high, wrists outward. The musicians, to one side, stirred, readying themselves. Their leader was a czehar player. There was only one musician at the side of the sand. Others would join him later. Their leader was Andronicus, who played the czehar. As we spoke some five musicians entered the room and took their places to one side. There was a czehar player, two flutists, a kalika player, and a player on the kaska, a small hand drum. The Lady Florence turned to the musicians, who were sitting to one side. "You may play," she said. "Yes, Lady Florence," said the czehar player, their leader. The Lady Florence then signaled to the musicians. There was a swirl of music and a beating on the drum, and then a pause, and then began, with the czehar prominent, the strains of a slow Gorean melody. And Melpomene, the collared slave, danced, entertaining the guests of her Mistress, the Lady Florence of Vonda. There were seven musicians, who furnished the music for the dancers, a czehar player, their leader, two kalika players, three flutists and a kaska player. Tasdron kindly had brought these fellows from his tavern. I enjoyed the czehar concert," I said, lightly. "Good," he said. The czehar is a long, low, rectangular instrument. It is played, held across the lap. It has eight strings, plucked with a horn pick. It had been played by Lysander of Aspericbe. The concert had taken place two nights ago in the small theater of Kleitos, off the square of Perimines. "I thought Lysander played well," I said. "He is regarded as one of the finest czehar players on all Gor," said Drusus Rencius, dryly. Hendow gestured with his head to the musicians, and they made their way, one by one, through the beaded curtain. There were five of them, a czehar player, two kalika players, a flautist and a drummer. In a moment or two, as Mirus solicited further interest among the customers, I heard the sounds of the instruments, the czehar and kalikas being toned, the flautist trying passages, the drummer's fingers light on the taut skin of his instrument, the kaska, then adjusting it, then trying it again, then tapping lightly, then more vigorously, with swift, brief rhythms, limbering his wrists, fingers and hands. The music of Gor, or much of it, is very melodious and sensuous. Much of it seems made for the display of slaves before free men, but then, I suppose, that is exactly what it is made for. The czehar player, sitting cross-legged, now had his instrument across his lap. He was the leader of the musicians. He had his horn pick in hand. "Are you ready?" asked the leader of the musicians, the czehar player. We were still to be hot, and ready, paga slaves, eager to serve, and fully, the silk no more than an invitation to its removal. This was not much different, incidentally, than what was the case in even the most prestigious paga taverns. That was the purpose of such places, whether they were within lofty towers, reached by graceful bridges, or near the wharves, close enough to hear the tide lapping at the pilings, whether they had a dozen musicians or only a single, dissolute czehar player, alone with his music, whether the girls were richly silked or stark naked, save for brands and collars, whether there were chains of gold and luxurious furs in the alcoves or only wire and straw mats. They were paga taverns. "Have you heard the news?" a fellow was eagerly asking another, outside, in the main paga room. The music had stopped. A dancer had fled back behind a beaded curtain, dismissed by the czehar player, he who led the musicians. "Is there to be entertainment?" he asked. "Czehar music," she said, "and, later, the recitation of poetry by Milo, the famed actor, to the music of the double flute." "Superbly fitting," she laughed. "But come early. You would not wish to miss the czehar music nor the performance of Milo." "You are retaining the czehar player and the actor then," he asked. "Yes," she said. "I promised him." In another place, within a rectangle of canvas walls, on a small stage, as the music of flutes and a czehar drifted upward, she saw acrobats, jugglers and fire-eaters. The music of czehars, flutes, and kalikas, from scattered bands of musicians, swirled throughout the gigantic festival camp, spread over pasangs. Some of the slaves already, to the music of the czehars and other instruments, which was clearly audible everywhere in the camp, danced. Men, the arrogant, masterful beasts, thought Ellen, biting her lip, grinding her fingernails into the palms of her hands. How vulnerable we are! How they make us theirs! They play us like czehars, drawing what music they will from our bodies! There was a skirl of music from the musicians outside, to one side of the sand, flutes, czehars, two kalikas, a tabor. The first czehar player, in whose charge were the musicians, appeared puzzled as well, but continued to elicit from his instrument, held across his knees, subtle melodies which sang of life and nature, which hinted of men and women, and masters and slaves. The music followed Ellen, quietly, expectantly, enhancing her contrived mystery. Then suddenly on the sand, she stopped, near its center, and looked out, toward the crowd. The music stopped with her. She took a step backward, and then another step. And the czehar player underlined these steps. She stopped dancing for a moment, confused, but tried not to look at Selius Arconious, lest their eyes meet. The czehar player looked up, puzzled. With a swirl from the czehar and kalikas, and a pounding of the tabors, the dancers prostrated themselves in the sand, as slaves, and then, as Peisistratus struck his hands sharply together, they leapt up, and fled from the room, exiting through a portal, it curtained with dangling strands of blue and yellow beads, the caste colors of the slavers. I had seen them dancing in the firelight, in camps, to the rhythms of the czehar, the kalika, the flute, and tabor. Many masters, in their pride and vanity, and as evidence of their wealth, good fortune, or taste, enjoy displaying their slaves, much as owners of various goods, of various sorts, enjoy displaying other sorts of properties, statuary, rare coins, artworks, fountains, veminium gardens, classical czehars, early editions of famous scrolls, antique kaissa sets, and such. Well now was I aware of how I might have responded had they been concerned less to routinely open a young slave and had they been more patient, slower, less merciful. What if they had been tortuously slow, reading my body, playing upon it, as on a czehar or kalika bringing forth what music they wished? I knew that a yearning slave, to one side lying in her chains, must often await the outcome of such a game There was music in the tavern, a czehar player, a drummer, utilizing the small tabor, two flautists, and a pair of kalika players. He with the czehar was the leader. That was common, as I was given to understand. "Surely she has more serious opinions," said another, "as to the ranking of the nine classic poets, the values of the Turian hexameter, should prose be allowed in song drama, the historicity of Hesius, the reform of the calendar, the dark geometries, the story of the czehar, the policies of the Salarian confederation, the nature of the moons, the sumptuary laws of Ti, the history of Ar." Why should they, out here in the forest, be discussing tunes, czehars, flutes, kalikas, and such? I saw, centrally, a circle of sand, which, I supposed, was dancing sand. There were cushions to the side, probably for musicians. The accompaniment for a dancer can vary considerably, from as little as a single flute, often the case with a street dancer, to several individuals and a variety of instruments. A typical group would consist of a czehar player, usually the leader, one or two flautists, one or two players of the kalika, and a taborist. "If it were night, indoors," said Kurik, "I would suppose any number of things, depending on the house, music, the kalika and czehar, the aulus and tabor, acrobats, jugglers, flute girls, eaters of fire, the reading of poetry the chanting of histories, professional tellers of stories, the singing and dancing of slaves, many things." During the moment the door was ajar, I saw lamps within, and some men milling about. Two held goblets, probably of paga. There was also a screen. I heard some music, a czehar tabor, and flute. I could not see the musicians. They and, I supposed, the wheel, were behind the screen. I listened to the music, supplied by a czehar player, which, now, was soft, slow, and sensuous. No dancer was now performing. Later the czehar player would be joined by his fellows, two with kalikas, two with flutes, and one on the tabor. The czehar player was the leader of the group. That seems to be common. The czehar player had stopped briefly, looking up when the girl had cried out, but now resumed his playing. The musicians arrived and took their places at the side of the dancing floor. There was a czehar player, two flutists, and a drummer, with the small tabor. They were followed by the taverner's man who had gone to fetch them. "There are no dancers," said the czehar player, who was the leader of the small group. "Ianthe and Aglaia are unavailable." "One has been sent for," said Ho-Tosk, "from the holding of Bosk." "Let us withdraw," said the leader of the group. "I think we shall withdraw," said the czehar player. "Stay where you are," said Ho-Tosk. "I fear insurrection," said a taverner's man, he who had fetched the musicians. "If it were in the streets, we could nail boards across the portal." "Perhaps," said the czehar player, "you should do so anyway, to keep it from reaching the streets." "Ready?" asked Ho-Tosk to the musicians. "This will not take long," said the czehar player. "You are ready?" said Ho-Tosk to the musicians. "Yes," said the czehar player. "Play," said Ho-Tosk. "The czehar player has appeared," said Thurnock. "He has now joined the kalika player, the flautists, and a drummer." The musicians, now, following the rising of the czehar player, too, took their departure, two flutists, a kalika player and a drummer, with his double tabor. "I shall arrange matters," I said, and then, getting up, I made my way to the czehar player, who, as is often the case, was first amongst the musicians. A ripple of sound coursed across the eight strings of the czehar. The musicians, now, following the rising of the czehar player, too, took their departure, two flutists, a kalika player and a drummer, with his double tabor. "I can remember when the gate was burned and the walls were rubble, torn down by those of Ar herself, duped into rejoicing in their own defenselessness, during the Occupation, dismantled stone by stone, to the music of flute girls." The musicians, now, following the rising of the czehar player, too, took their departure, two flutists, a kalika player and a drummer, with his double tabor.
From behind three or four of the low tables, to the left of the counter, a band of sweating musicians sat happily cross-legged on the rug, somehow producing from those unlikely pipes and strings and drums and disks and wires the ever intriguing, wild, enchanting beautiful barbaric melodies of Gor.
My master had a double flute slung on his back. He was Gordon, an itinerant musician. I may have been mistaken, but I felt that men were looking at me. Perhaps they had noticed, too, the double flute on my master's back. My master removed his long double flute from his back. I braced myself for an instant. He played then a set of annunciatory skirls. I think that anyone in the square must have heard those sounds. He then, for two or three minutes, played soft, full, melodious tunes, sensuous, inviting tunes. With the music of the double flute in the background I modestly removed the Ta-Teera, putting it to the side. On the wall, in the trough of the breach, we saw four men rolling a heavy stone toward the field side of the wall. A flute girl was parodying, or accompanying, their efforts on the flute, the instrument seeming to strain with them, and then, when they rolled the stone down, she played a skirl of descending notes on the flute, and, spinning about, danced away. The men laughed. "I have seen enough," said Marcus. There was suddenly near us, startling us, another skirl of notes on a flute, the common double flute. A flute girl, come apparently from the wall side of the Wall Road, danced tauntingly near us, to our right, and, with the flute, while playing, gestured toward the wall, as though encouraging us to join the others in their labor. I, and Marcus, I am sure, were angry. Not only had we been startled by the sudden, intrusive noise, which the girl must have understood would have been the case, but we resented the insinuation that we might be such as would of our own will join the work on the wall. Did she think we were of Ar, that we were of the conquered, the pacified, the confused and fooled, the verbally manipulated, the innocuous, the predictable, the tamed? She was an exciting brunet, in a short tunic of diaphanous silk. She was slender, and was probably kept on a carefully supervised diet by her master or trainer. Her dark eyes shone with amusement. She pranced before us, playing. She waved the flute again toward the wall. We regarded her. She again gestured, playing, toward the wall. I had little doubt that she assumed from our appearance in this area that we were of Ar. We did not move. A gesture of annoyance crossed her lovely features. She played more determinedly, as though we might not understand her intent. Still we did not move. Then, angrily, she spun about, dancing, to return to her former post near the wall side of the Wall Road. She was attractive, even insolently so, at the moment, in the diaphanous silk. "You have not been given permission to withdraw," I said, evenly. She turned about, angrily, holding the flute. "You are armed," she suddenly said, perhaps then for the first time really noting this homely fact. "We are not of Ar," I said. "Oh," she said, standing her ground, trembling a little. "Are you accustomed to standing in the presence of free men?" I asked. "I will kneel if it will please you," she said. "If you not kneel," I said, "it is possible that I may be displeased." She regarded me. "Kneel," I said. Swiftly she knelt. I walked over to her and, taking her by the hair, twisting it, she crying out, turned her about and threw her to her belly on the Wall Road. She sobbed in anger. Marcus and I crouched near her. "Oh!" she said. "She is not in the iron belt," said Marcus. "That is a further insult to those of Ar," I said, "that they would put unbelted flute girls among them." "Yes," growled Marcus. The tone of his voice, I am sure, did nothing to set our fair prisoner at ease. Flute girls, incidentally, when hired from their master, to entertain and serve at parties, are commonly unbelted, that for the convenience of the guests. "Czehar music," she said, "and, later, the recitation of poetry by Milo, the famed actor, to the music of the double flute." The instrument which is played by the flute girls is a double flute, too, but I had little doubt that the player involved would not be a flute girl but someone associated with one or another of the theaters of Ar. Similarly the instrument would undoubtedly be far superior, in both range and tone, to those likely to be at the disposal of flute girls.
I could hear from a tent nearby the sound of a flute, some soft drums, and the rhythmic jangle of some tiny cymbals. Then, to the festive music of flutes and drums, the girl kneels. The young man approaches her, bearing a slave collar, its engraving proclaiming his name and city. The music grows more intense, mounting to an overpowering, barbaric crescendo, which stops suddenly, abruptly. The room is silent, absolutely silent, except for the decisive click of the collar lock. The music begins again. Perhaps the girl hesitates. There is a slave whip on the wall. Then, to the barbaric, intoxicating music of the flute and drums, she dances for her captor, the bells on her ankles marking each of her movements, the movements of a girl stolen from her home, who must now live to please the bold stranger whose binding fiber she had felt, whose collar she wore. It was customary to find diversions other than Paga in the Paga Taverns, as well, but in gray Tharna the cymbals, drums and flutes of the musicians, the clashing of bangles on the ankles of dancing girls would be unfamiliar sounds. From behind three or four of the low tables, to the left of the counter, a band of sweating musicians sat happily cross-legged on the rug, somehow producing from those unlikely pipes and strings and drums and disks and wires the ever intriguing, wild, enchanting beautiful barbaric melodies of Gor. More than once we encountered a line of musicians dancing single file down the center of the street, playing on their flutes and drums, perhaps on their way to a feast. Then, to my surprise, the girl clapped her hands sharply twice and the women about the table stood, and together, from both sides, moved swiftly to stand before us between the tables. The drums and flutes of the musicians sounded, and to my amazement the first girl, with a sudden, graceful swirl of her body lifted away her robes and flung them high over the heads of the guests to cries of delight. She stood facing us, beautiful, knees flexed, breathing deeply, arms lifted over her head, ready for the dance. Each of the women I had thought free did the same, until each stood before us, a collared slave girl clad only in the diaphanous, scarlet dancing silks of Gor. To the barbaric music they danced. Kamchak was angry. I would not tell Miss Cardwell but the rhythm was the drum rhythm of the Chain Dance. To one side, across a clearing from the fire, a bit in the background, was a group of nine musicians. They were not as yet playing, though one of them was absently tapping a rhythm on a small hand drum, the kaska; two others, with stringed instruments, were tuning them, putting their ears to the instruments. One of the instruments was an eight-stringed czehar, rather like a large flat oblong box; it is held across the lap when sitting cross-legged and is played with a horn pick; the other was the kalika, a six-stringed instrument; it, like the czehar, is flat-bridged and its strings are adjusted by means of small wooden cranks; on the other hand, it less resembles a low, flat box and suggests affinities to the banjo or guitar, though the sound box is hemispheric and the neck rather long; it, too, of course, like the czehar, is plucked; I have never seen a bowed instrument on Gor; also, I might mention, I have never on Gor seen any written music; I do not know if a notation exists; melodies are passed on from father to son, from master to apprentice. There was another kalika player, as well, but he was sitting there holding his instrument, watching the slave girls in the audience. The three flutists were polishing their instruments and talking together; it was shop talk I gathered, because one or the other would stop to illustrate some remark by a passage on his flute, and then one of the others would attempt to correct or improve on what he had done; occasionally their discussion grew heated. There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires, gourds filled with pebbles, slave bells mounted on hand rings, and such. These various things, from time to time, would be used not only by himself but by others in the group, probably the second kaska player and the third flutist. Among Gorean musicians, incidentally, czehar players have the most prestige; there was only one in this group, I noted, and he was their leader; next follow the flutists and then the players of the kalika; the players of the drums come next; and the farthest fellow down the list is the man who keeps the bag of miscellaneous instruments, playing them and parceling them out to others as needed. Lastly it might be mentioned, thinking it is of some interest, musicians on Gor are never enslaved; they may, of course, be exiled, tortured, slain and such; it is said, perhaps truly, that he who makes music must, like the tarn and the Vosk gull, be free. The figure of the woman, swathed in black, heavily veiled, descended the steps of the slave wagon. Once at the foot of the stairs she stopped and stood for a long moment. Then the musicians began, the hand-drums first, a rhythm of heartbeat and flight. Now that the sport was done some Musicians filed in, taking up positions to one side. There was a czehar player, two players of the kalika, four flutists and a pair of kaska drummers. A number of Musicians now filed out from the door at the foot of the block and took their places about it, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Those with string instruments began to tune them; there was a czehar player, the group's leader, some kalika players, some flutists, players of the kaska, small drums, and others. Each of these, in his way, prepared himself for the evening, sketching out melodies or sound patterns, lost with himself. Then there came a drumming sound, growing louder and louder, a man pounding on a hollowed drum of rence root with two sticks, and then, as suddenly as the singing and clapping, the drum, too, stopped. Then the man with the drum of hollow rence root began to drum, and I heard some others join in with reed flutes, and one fellow had bits of metal, strung on a circular wire, and another a notched stick, played by scraping it with a flat spoon of rence root. The injured galley then is like a broken-winged bird, and at the mercy of the other ship's ram as she comes about, flutes playing and drums beating, and makes her strike amidships. Although I had had the masts, with their yards, taken down and lashed to the decks, and the sails stored below, I had the flutists and drummers, not uncommon on the ram-ships of Thassa, strike up a martial air. I listened for a while, chuckling, to the brave tunes being put forth by my flutists and drummers. I watched her, in the training sand, dancing to hide drums, naked, in slave bracelets and jeweled dancing collar. She did not then appear to be of the blue-robed, studious scribes. She was only a naked, dancing slave girl, exciting, writhing in the sand, her body throbbing to the beat of a man's pleasure drums. We heard music in the distance, trumpets, drums and cymbals. We looked at one another, scarcely able to restrain ourselves. The drums, the cymbals, the trumpets, were now quite close. I lifted up an edge of the rain canvas and peeped through. Behind him came musicians, with their trumpets, and cymbals and drums. I heard the blare of the trumpets, the clash of the cymbals, the pounding of the drums. We heard the drums, the trumpets and clashing cymbals growing fainter, down the street, as the retinue continued on its way. Rask clapped his hands once, and four musicians, who had been waiting outside, entered the tent, and took a place to one side. Two had small drums, one a flute, the other a stringed instrument. We heard the beating of a drum and the playing of flutes. Flanking the wagon, on both sides, were the musicians, with their drums and flutes. The judges, I noted, had left. The musicians, those who had played the drums and flutes, escorting the judges and the prisoner, had also left. There were several large campfires in the clearing. Among them, staked out, were the men of Marlenus. A man of Tyros had a hide drum and, at one side of the clearing, was pounding out a monotonous, repetitive preparatory rhythm. The tempo of the man with the drum increased. I could see the shadows of tents beyond the clearing. There was a long silence, of some Ihn, and then, at a nod from Hura, who threw her long black hair back and lifted her head to the moons, the drum began again its beat. Mira's head was down, and shaking. Her right foot was stamping. The panther girls put down their heads. I saw their fists begin to clench and unclench. They stood, scarcely moving, but I could sense the movement of the drum in their blood. The drum was now very heady, swift. The dance of the panther girls became more wild, more frenzied. Behind me, as I thrust apart the beads, I heard the pounding of the drum, the kaska, the silence, then the sound, as the flutist, his hands on her body, to the sound of the drum, instructed the girl in the line-length and intensity of one of the varieties of pre-abandonment pelvic thrusts. "I have not seen the performance of a drum dance in four moons," he said. The drum of the red hunters is large and heavy. It has a handle and is disklike. It requires strength to manage it. It is held in one hand and beaten with a stick held in the other. Its frame is generally of wood and its cover, of hide, usually tabuk hide, is fixed on the frame by sinew. Interestingly the drum is not struck on the head, or hide cover, but on the frame. It has an odd resonance. That drum in the hand of the hunter standing now in the midst of the group was some two and one half feet in diameter. He was now striking on it and singing. A skirl on a flute and a sudden pounding on twin tabors, small, hand drums, called my attention to the square of sand at the side of which sat the musicians. There was much singing. There were numerous torches, and drums. Within the stockade of the Mamba people there was much light and noise. I could hear the sounds of their musical instruments, and the pounding of their drums. Within the stockade, too, we could hear the chanting of the people and the beating of sticks, carried in the hands of dancers. Within the stockade of the Mamba people there was much light and noise. I could hear the sounds of their musical instruments, and the pounding of the drums. Too, we could hear, within, the sounds of chanting and the beatings of the sticks carried in the hands of the dancers. As we spoke some five musicians entered the room and took their places to one side. There was a czehar player, two flutists, a kalika player, and a player on the kaska, a small hand drum. The Lady Florence then signaled to the musicians. There was a swirl of music and a beating on the drum, and then a pause, and then began, with the czehar prominent, the strains of a slow Gorean melody. And Melpomene, the collared slave, danced, entertaining the guests of her Mistress, the Lady Florence of Vonda. Within the holding I could hear the sound of flutes, drums and kalikas. The melody, however, was slow and decorous. But, of course, there are many ways in which the order of nature may be acknowledged. Another is that in which the woman, naked and collared, branded, under a man's whip, writhes at his feet to the beating of drums. "The medicine chief of the dance," said Cuwignaka. "This year it is Cancega, of the Casmu." 'Cancega', here, I think, would be best translated as "Drum." More literally, it is a skin stretched over a hoop. The expression 'cega', itself, may refer to a kettle, a pot, a pail, a bucket, or so on. 'Cancega', then, in a sense, could be taken to mean such things as "Kettle Skin," or "Pot Skin." The translation "Drum," all things considered, seems to be best in this context. Winyela then heard the rattles behind her, giving her her rhythm. These rattles were then joined by the firing of whistles, shrill and high, formed from the wing bones of the taloned Herlit. A small drum, too, then began to sound its more accented beats, approached subtly but predictably, instructed the helpless, lovely dancer as to the placement and timing of the more dramatic of her demonstrations and motions. Suddenly we heard the shaking of rattles, the beating of small hand drums. The Yellow Knives opened their lines. The soldiers, too, drew back. In the corridor then formed, in the gloom, their bodies painted, brush tied about their wrists and ankles, chanting, stomping, turning about and shuffling, came dancers. They wore masks. Otherwise, had I gone abroad in the robes of the Tatrix, we would have been encumbered by guards and crowds; we would have had to travel in a palanquin; we would have been forced to tolerate the annunciatory drums and trumpets, and put up with all the noisy, ostentatious, dreary panoply of office. The drummer and the flautist prepared once more to play. Outside, in the canal traffic, I heard a drum, cymbals and trumpets, and a man shouting. Outside I could hear the sounds of yet another troupe traversing the canal, with its raucous cries, its drums and trumpets. A fellow from the audience was invited forward to test the locks. He tried them, stoutly, and then, grudgingly, attested to their placement and solidity. He was requested to retain the keys. The lovely young woman then stepped into a nearby vertical cabinet. The crowd looked at one another. Then a drum roll, furnished by a fellow to one side, suddenly commenced and, steadily, increased in volume and intensity. At its sudden climax, followed by an instant of startling silence, the door of the vertical cabinet burst open and the magician, smiling, to cries of surprise, of awe and wonder, stepped forth, waving, his hands free, greeting the crowd. He wasted not a moment but searched out the startled fellow with the keys and began swiftly, one by one, to unlock the padlocks. In a moment, thrusting back the externally mounted security bolts, the padlocks already removed, he had the trunk open. The crowd was breathless, sensing what might, but could not, be the case. He jerked the sack inside to an upright position. I noticed that it was now secured with a capture knot, a knot of a sort commonly used in securing captives and slaves. He undid the knot. Then, to another drum roll, he opened the mouth of the sack. At the climax of this drum roll, after its moment of startling silence, the figure of a beautiful, naked, hooded female, her wrists locked in slave bracelets, sprang up. The magician bowed to the crowd. Hendow gestured with his head to the musicians, and they made their way, one by one, through the beaded curtain. There were five of them, a czehar player, two kalika players, a flautist and a drummer. In a moment or two, as Mirus solicited further interest among the customers, I heard the sounds of the instruments, the czehar and kalikas being toned, the flautist trying passages, the drummer's fingers light on the taut skin of his instrument, the kaska, then adjusting it, then trying it again, then tapping lightly, then more vigorously, with swift, brief rhythms, limbering his wrists, fingers and hands. The music of Gor, or much of it, is very melodious and sensuous. Much of it seems made for the display of slaves before free men, but then, I suppose, that is exactly what it is made for. Suddenly in my dance it seemed I was a virgin, reluctant and fearful, terrified in the reality in which she found herself, but knowing she must respond to the music, to those heady, sensuous rhythms, to the wild cries of the flute, to the beating of the drum. I then danced timidity, and reluctance and inhibition, but yet reflecting, as one would, in such a situation, the commands of the music. "The czehar player has appeared," said Thurnock. "He has now joined the kalika player, the flautists, and a drummer." The musicians, now, following the rising of the czehar player, too, took their departure, two flutists, a kalika player and a drummer, with his double tabor.
"Cotanka," said he, "of the Wismahi." As is often the case with the names of the red savages they do not translate simply and directly into a different language. The expression 'cotanka' usually designates a fife or flute, but it may also be used more broadly to refer to any wind instrument whatsoever. Given the cultural milieu involved and the narrower understanding of that expression within that milieu perhaps the best translation, supplying connotations familiar to the red savages, might be 'Love Flute'.
The man from the tavern of Filimbi, to which she had been sold after I had been taken from Schendi, some months ago, was but a few feet behind her. He had unleashed her that she might run to me. She still wore a brief work tunic from the tavern, with the sign of the tavern, a flute, on its back. Filimbi was the name of the proprietor, but it is also an inland word for flute.
I could hear from a tent nearby the sound of a flute, some soft drums, and the rhythmic jangle of some tiny cymbals. That night, at a great feast, he displays the captive, now suitably attired by his sisters in the diaphanous, scarlet dancing silks of Gor. Bells have been strapped to her ankles, and she is bound in slave bracelets. Proudly, he presents her to his parents, his friends and warrior comrades. Then, to the festive music of flutes and drums, the girl kneels. The young man approaches her, bearing a slave collar, its engraving proclaiming his name and city. The music grows more intense, mounting to an overpowering, barbaric crescendo, which stops suddenly, abruptly. The room is silent, absolutely silent, except for the decisive click of the collar lock. The music begins again. Perhaps the girl hesitates. There is a slave whip on the wall. Then, to the barbaric, intoxicating music of the flute and drums, she dances for her captor, the bells on her ankles marking each of her movements, the movements of a girl stolen from her home, who must now live to please the bold stranger whose binding fiber she had felt, whose collar she wore. It was customary to find diversions other than Paga in the Paga Taverns, as well, but in gray Tharna the cymbals, drums and flutes of the musicians, the clashing of bangles on the ankles of dancing girls would be unfamiliar sounds. More than once we encountered a line of musicians dancing single file down the center of the street, playing on their flutes and drums, perhaps on their way to a feast. The drums and flutes of the musicians sounded, and to my amazement the first girl, with a sudden, graceful swirl of her body lifted away her robes and flung them high over the heads of the guests to cries of delight. To one side, across a clearing from the fire, a bit in the background, was a group of nine musicians. They were not as yet playing, though one of them was absently tapping a rhythm on a small hand drum, the kaska; two others, with stringed instruments, were tuning them, putting their ears to the instruments. One of the instruments was an eight-stringed czehar, rather like a large flat oblong box; it is held across the lap when sitting cross-legged and is played with a horn pick; the other was the kalika, a six-stringed instrument; it, like the czehar, is flat-bridged and its strings are adjusted by means of small wooden cranks; on the other hand, it less resembles a low, flat box and suggests affinities to the banjo or guitar, though the sound box is hemispheric and the neck rather long; it, too, of course, like the czehar, is plucked; I have never seen a bowed instrument on Gor; also, I might mention, I have never on Gor seen any written music; I do not know if a notation exists; melodies are passed on from father to son, from master to apprentice. There was another kalika player, as well, but he was sitting there holding his instrument, watching the slave girls in the audience. The three flutists were polishing their instruments and talking together; it was shop talk I gathered, because one or the other would stop to illustrate some remark by a passage on his flute, and then one of the others would attempt to correct or improve on what he had done; occasionally their discussion grew heated. There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires, gourds filled with pebbles, slave bells mounted on hand rings, and such. These various things, from time to time, would be used not only by himself but by others in the group, probably the second kaska player and the third flutist. Among Gorean musicians, incidentally, czehar players have the most prestige; there was only one in this group, I noted, and he was their leader; next follow the flutists and then the players of the kalika; the players of the drums come next; and the farthest fellow down the list is the man who keeps the bag of miscellaneous instruments, playing them and parceling them out to others as needed. Lastly it might be mentioned, thinking it is of some interest, musicians on Gor are never enslaved; they may, of course, be exiled, tortured, slain and such; it is said, perhaps truly, that he who makes music must, like the tarn and the Vosk gull, be free. Now that the sport was done some Musicians filed in, taking up positions to one side. There was a czehar player, two players of the kalika, four flutists and a pair of kaska drummers. A number of Musicians now filed out from the door at the foot of the block and took their places about it, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Those with string instruments began to tune them; there was a czehar player, the group's leader, some kalika players, some flutists, players of the kaska, small drums, and others. Each of these, in his way, prepared himself for the evening, sketching out melodies or sound patterns, lost with himself. The Taurentians had been disbanded, disgraced and exiled from the city. Only the day before their purple cloaks and helmets had been taken from them before the great gate; their swords had been broken and they had been conducted by common Warriors, to the music of flute girls, a pasang beyond the walls of Ar, and ordered from her environs. Then the man with the drum of hollow rence root began to drum, and I heard some others join in with reed flutes, and one fellow had bits of metal, strung on a circular wire, and another a notched stick, played by scraping it with a flat spoon of rence root. The injured galley then is like a broken-winged bird, and at the mercy of the other ship's ram as she comes about, flutes playing and drums beating, and makes her strike amidships. Although I had had the masts, with their yards, taken down and lashed to the decks, and the sails stored below, I had the flutists and drummers, not uncommon on the ram-ships of Thassa, strike up a martial air. I listened for a while, chuckling, to the brave tunes being put forth by my flutists and drummers. Then, when I saw the perimeter ships of the treasure fleet swinging about toward me, I motioned for the musicians to discontinue their performance. When they were silent, I could hear the flutes and drums from the enemy ships. Others, brief notes, interrogations, demands for clarification, were from my own ships. They had good commanders. I listened to the flutes and drums of the ram-ships of the treasure fleet. Rask clapped his hands once, and four musicians, who had been waiting outside, entered the tent, and took a place to one side. Two had small drums, one a flute, the other a stringed instrument. We heard the beating of a drum and the playing of flutes. Flanking the wagon, on both sides, were the musicians, with their drums and flutes. Behind the wagon, in the white robes, trimmed with gold and purple, of merchant magistrates, came five men. I recognized them as judges. The judges, I noted, had left. The musicians, those who had played the drums and flutes, escorting the judges and the prisoner, had also left. Her teacher was a cafe slave girl, Seleenya, rented from her master; her musicians were a flutist, hired early, and, later, a kaska player, to accompany him. Behind me, as I thrust apart the beads, I heard the pounding of the drum, the kaska, the silence, then the sound, as the flutist, his hands on her body, to the sound of the drum, instructed the girl in the line-length and intensity of one of the varieties of pre-abandonment pelvic thrusts. I turned from him with a rustle of bells, looking about me. The girl in the sand was quite good. It was still early in the evening, the sixteenth hour. She scarcely moved, swaying, ankles close, arms over her head, wrists back to back, palms turned out. Yet she subtly danced, controlled by the music of a single flute. Some men watched her. We had five dancers at the Belled Collar. I thought all were fine. The best would perform later in the evening. Four performed a day, and one would rest. I could not dance. There was only one musician at the side of the sand. Others would join him later. Their leader was Andronicus, who played the czehar. A skirl on a flute and a sudden pounding on twin tabors, small, hand drums, called my attention to the square of sand at the side of which sat the musicians. The man from the tavern of Filimbi, to which she had been sold after I had been taken from Schendi, some months ago, was but a few feet behind her. He had unleashed her that she might run to me. She still wore a brief work tunic from the tavern, with the sign of the tavern, a flute, on its back. Filimbi was the name of the proprietor, but it is also an inland word for flute. As we spoke some five musicians entered the room and took their places to one side. There was a czehar player, two flutists, a kalika player, and a player on the kaska, a small hand drum. Within the holding I could hear the sound of flutes, drums and kalikas. The melody, however, was slow and decorous. There were seven musicians, who furnished the music for the dancers, a czehar player, their leader, two kalika players, three flutists and a kaska player. The vanity of human beings is interesting. From my own point of view it seemed that Hci retained a great deal of what must once have been an unusual degree of savage handsomeness. The marking of his countenance, though surely not what a fellow would be likely to elect for cosmetic purposes, did not seem to me sufficiently serious to warrant his reaction to it. It might even have been regarded by some, as I have suggested, in the rude heraldry of the plains, as an enhancement to their appearance. Surely the maidens of the Isbu did not seem to find the mark objectionable. Many of them would have been much pleased had Hci, such a splendid warrior, deigned to pay them court. But no longer did Hci come to sit cross-legged outside their lodges, playing the love flute, to lure them forth under the Gorean moons. "If you wish to court Iwoso," said Bloketu, "you may come to the lodge tonight and sit outside, cross-legged, playing the love flute. I will then decide whether or not I will permit my maiden to leave the lodge." "Cotanka," said he, "of the Wismahi." As is often the case with the names of the red savages they do not translate simply and directly into a different language. The expression 'cotanka' usually designates a fife or flute, but it may also be used more broadly to refer to any wind instrument whatsoever. Given the cultural milieu involved and the narrower understanding of that expression within that milieu perhaps the best translation, supplying connotations familiar to the red savages, might be 'Love Flute'. The drummer and the flautist prepared once more to play. This multiplicity of skills, incidentally, is not all that uncommon with players. Most of them, too, it seems, can do things like play the flute or kalika, sing, dance, tell jokes, and so on. They are generally versatile and talented people. Hendow gestured with his head to the musicians, and they made their way, one by one, through the beaded curtain. There were five of them, a czehar player, two kalika players, a flautist and a drummer. In a moment or two, as Mirus solicited further interest among the customers, I heard the sounds of the instruments, the czehar and kalikas being toned, the flautist trying passages, the drummer's fingers light on the taut skin of his instrument, the kaska, then adjusting it, then trying it again, then tapping lightly, then more vigorously, with swift, brief rhythms, limbering his wrists, fingers and hands. The music of Gor, or much of it, is very melodious and sensuous. Much of it seems made for the display of slaves before free men, but then, I suppose, that is exactly what it is made for. Suddenly in my dance it seemed I was a virgin, reluctant and fearful, terrified in the reality in which she found herself, but knowing she must respond to the music, to those heady, sensuous rhythms, to the wild cries of the flute, to the beating of the drum. I then danced timidity, and reluctance and inhibition, but yet reflecting, as one would, in such a situation, the commands of the music. I may have been mistaken, but I felt that men were looking at me. Perhaps they had noticed, too, the double flute on my master's back. My master removed his long double flute from his back. I braced myself for an instant. He played then a set of annunciatory skirls. I think that anyone in the square must have heard those sounds. He then, for two or three minutes, played soft, full, melodious tunes, sensuous, inviting tunes. With the music of the double flute in the background I modestly removed the Ta-Teera, putting it to the side. At a party or convivial supper the host, or elected feast master, usually determines the proportions of water to wine. Unmixed wine, of course, may be drunk, for example, at the parties of young men, at which might appear dancers, flute slaves and such. I heard a swirl from a flute, the simple flute, not the double flute, and the quick pounding of a small tabor, these instruments now in the hands of Philebus' assistants. There was the sound of the flute and drum. There was the firelight, the men about, the enclosure, the Vosk in the background, the firelight and the slave. The two fellows who had supplied the music were silent. One wiped the flute, the other was addressing himself to the tabor, loosening some pegs, relaxing the tension of the drumhead. The drumhead is usually made of verrskin, as most often are wineskins. Philebus glanced at his fellows, and the one tried a short schedule of notes on the flute, the other retightened the pegs on the tabor. Borton looked quizzically at the girl before him, so beautiful, and owned. She did not meet his eyes. "Let the melody be soft, and slow, and simple," said Philebus to the flutist, who nodded. "May I speak, Master," asked Temione. "Yes," said Philebus. "May the melody also be," said she, "one in which a slave may be well displayed." "A block melody?" asked the flutist, addressing his question to Philebus. "No," said Philebus, "nothing so sensuous. Rather, say, the "Hope of Tina."" I heard the sound of a tabor several yards away, and the swirl of a flute, and the clapping of hands. "You merely wish to observe the flute girls," he said. I could hear the flutes. "What do you wish here," he asked, "if you are not of Ar?" "To see the progress of the works," I said. He laughed. "And the flute girls?" he said. We could now hear the flute music quite clearly. Here and there upon the walls, among those working, were silked flute girls, sometimes sitting cross-legged on flat stones, rather even with or even below the heads of workers, sometimes perched cross-legged on large stones, above the heads of workers, sometimes moving about among the workers, sometimes strolling, playing, at other times turning and dancing. Some were also on the lower level, even on the Wall Road. "Many of the flute girls seem pretty," said Marcus. "Yes," I said. To be sure, we were rather far from them. "It is a joke of Lurius of Jad, I gather," said Marcus, "that the walls of Ar should be torn down to the music of flute girls." "I would think so," I said. "What an extreme insult," he said. "Yes," I said. "You will note," he said, "that many of the girls sit cross-legged." "Yes," I said. "They should be beaten," he said. "Yes," I said. "Officially," I said, "the music of the flute girls is supposed to make the work more pleasant." On the wall, in the trough of the breach, we saw four men rolling a heavy stone toward the field side of the wall. A flute girl was parodying, or accompanying, their efforts on the flute, the instrument seeming to strain with them, and then, when they rolled the stone down, she played a skirl of descending notes on the flute, and, spinning about, danced away. The men laughed. "I have seen enough," said Marcus. There was suddenly near us, startling us, another skirl of notes on a flute, the common double flute. A flute girl, come apparently from the wall side of the Wall Road, danced tauntingly near us, to our right, and, with the flute, while playing, gestured toward the wall, as though encouraging us to join the others in their labor. I, and Marcus, I am sure, were angry. Not only had we been startled by the sudden, intrusive noise, which the girl must have understood would have been the case, but we resented the insinuation that we might be such as would of our own will join the work on the wall. Did she think we were of Ar, that we were of the conquered, the pacified, the confused and fooled, the verbally manipulated, the innocuous, the predictable, the tamed? She was an exciting brunet, in a short tunic of diaphanous silk. She was slender, and was probably kept on a carefully supervised diet by her master or trainer. Her dark eyes shone with amusement. She pranced before us, playing. She waved the flute again toward the wall. We regarded her. She again gestured, playing, toward the wall. I had little doubt that she assumed from our appearance in this area that we were of Ar. We did not move. A gesture of annoyance crossed her lovely features. She played more determinedly, as though we might not understand her intent. Still we did not move. Then, angrily, she spun about, dancing, to return to her former post near the wall side of the Wall Road. She was attractive, even insolently so, at the moment, in the diaphanous silk. "You have not been given permission to withdraw," I said, evenly. She turned about, angrily, holding the flute. "You are armed," she suddenly said, perhaps then for the first time really noting this homely fact. "We are not of Ar," I said. "Oh," she said, standing her ground, trembling a little. "Are you accustomed to standing in the presence of free men?" I asked. "I will kneel if it will please you," she said. "If you not kneel," I said, "it is possible that I may be displeased." She regarded me. "Kneel," I said. Swiftly she knelt. I walked over to her and, taking her by the hair, twisting it, she crying out, turned her about and threw her to her belly on the Wall Road. She sobbed in anger. Marcus and I crouched near her. "Oh!" she said. "She is not in the iron belt," said Marcus. "That is a further insult to those of Ar," I said, "that they would put unbelted flute girls among them." "Yes," growled Marcus. The tone of his voice, I am sure, did nothing to set our fair prisoner at ease. Flute girls, incidentally, when hired from their master, to entertain and serve at parties, are commonly unbelted, that for the convenience of the guests. Things were then much as they had been before. Nothing had changed. To be sure, the work was not now being performed to the music of flute girls. Tomorrow, however, I did not doubt but what the flute girls would be back, and numerous guards in attendance, at least on the street. "Czehar music," she said, "and, later, the recitation of poetry by Milo, the famed actor, to the music of the double flute." The instrument which is played by the flute girls is a double flute, too, but I had little doubt that the player involved would not be a flute girl but someone associated with one or another of the theaters of Ar. Similarly the instrument would undoubtedly be far superior, in both range and tone, to those likely to be at the disposal of flute girls. Some twenty men, stripped, in heavy metal collars, these linked by heavy chains, their hands behind their backs, presumably manacled, prodded now and then by the butts of guards' spears, were approaching. Behind the line came a flute girl, sometimes turning about, playing the instrument. It was this sound we had heard. Some folks stopped to watch. We watched the coffle of prisoners move away, south on the Avenue of the Central Cylinder. For a long time we could hear the music of the flute girl who brought up the rear. *Twice in the manuscript, later, Cabot refers to a "Flute Street." From the context it seems clear that this is "Aulus." I have accordingly edited the manuscript in the interests of consistency, changing "Flute Street" to "Aulus." My interpretation is supported by information supplied by a colleague in the Classics Department, to the effect that there is a Greek expression for a flute which might be transliterated as aulos. I think we may assume then, apart from contextual considerations, that "Aulus" and "Flute Street" are the same street. My conjecture is that aulos was absorbed into Gorean as 'Aulus'. An additional consideration is that "Aulus" is one of the streets bordering the great theater, that of Pentilicus Tallux. Flute music is apparently extremely important in Gorean theater. Indeed, we learn from Cabot's miscellaneous notes that the name of the flute player usually occurs on theatrical advertisements immediately after that of the major performer or performers. It seems the flute player is often on stage and accompanies performers about, pointing up speeches, supplying background music and such. This is accepted as Gorean theatrical convention, it seems, much as background music is accepted in Twentieth Century films, even in such unlikely locations as city streets, airplanes, life rafts and deserts. Various "modes" are supposed, as well, to elicit and express various emotions, some being appropriate for love scenes, others for battle scenes, etc. Lastly it might be mentioned that 'Aulus' can also occur as a Gorean masculine name. This sort of thing is familiar, of course, in all languages, as Smith, Cooper, Chandler, Carpenter, Carter, and such, stand for occupations, and names like Hampshire, Lake, Holm, Rivers, and such, stand for places, and names like Stone, Hammer, Rock, and such, stand for things. Similarly I was not versed in song, I was not skilled with lute or lyre, I did not even know the special dances of the gardens. It is one thing to writhe naked before guards, one's body obedient to the slightest tremor of the flute, and quite another, for example, to swirl in a belt of jewels on the dancing floor of one of the golden taverns, reached only from the high bridges. But then, perhaps, they are not really so different after all. In another place, within a rectangle of canvas walls, on a small stage, as the music of flutes and a czehar drifted upward, she saw acrobats, jugglers and fire-eaters. The music of czehars, flutes, and kalikas, from scattered bands of musicians, swirled throughout the gigantic festival camp, spread over pasangs. There was the pounding of tabors, too, speaking of excitement and the rousings of blood. There was a skirl of music from the musicians outside, to one side of the sand, flutes, czehars, two kalikas, a tabor. There was the music of flutes, and a tabor, and one kalika, and a slave, she of one of Peisistratus' men, stamped her feet, and turned, and danced in the firelight. "The slave! The slave!" he heard, from the group about the fire. Too, he heard the flute skirl an invitation. The tabor joined the flute, and then, suddenly, too, the kalika. And many sang, and congratulated themselves on their newly found virtue, while dismantling their walls to the scornful music of flute girls. "And the flute girls who so tormented and mocked the earlier dismantlers of the walls?" I asked. I had seen them dancing in the firelight, in camps, to the rhythms of the czehar, the kalika, the flute, and tabor. The walls of Ar, mightier even than those of southern Turia, were dismantled by duped, rejoicing citizens to the music of flute girls, and betrayed, fallen Ar would be systematically looted and exploited for months. I had attended, as a guardsman, many of her fetes and banquets, and had attended her, and others, at the theater, at concerts, and song dramas. Her regalia had been complex and sumptuous, rich and colorful, the envy of every free woman in the city, each pleat and fold carefully arranged by slaves; her slippers had been laced with pearls, her veils had shimmered with jewels. Cast flowers and sprinkled perfumes, drummers and flautists, preceded her chair, borne by mighty slaves, flanked by liveried guardsmen. Indeed, he may often bring in rent slaves from the party houses to sing and dance for him, and his guests, to play the kalika, to accompany with flute music the measuring of wine and the cutting of meat. "I thought of myself, frequently enough, as a property, as owned, as a girl who must unquestioningly, fearfully, obey masters, who might dance for their pleasure, about campfires in lonely places, on streets in shabby districts, to a master's flute, on the decks of galleys, to the clapping of hands, on the floor of taverns, to music, silks swirling, bangles clashing, to shouts, to hands reaching for me, to the clash of goblets and the spilling of drink, to the cries of aroused men, pleased to look upon me as I would then be, a vulnerable, helpless slave, desperate to be found pleasing." "Weeks went by," she said. "Then it was noticed one evening that the blinded beast was turning about, and moving, in time to the carnival music, when the kaiila were performing, and later, the striped urts. This was brought to the attention of the owner, the chief trainer, who brought a flautist to the vicinity of the cage, and, behold, the beast danced to the music of the flute. Thereafter this was one of the attractions in the carnival. Usually, of course, they would be in the company of their masters, or, say, keepers, if they might be returning late from feasts, serving slaves, flute slaves, kalika slaves, brothel girls, dancers, or such. I knew that a yearning slave, to one side lying in her chains, must often await the outcome of such a game There was music in the tavern, a czehar player, a drummer, utilizing the small tabor, two flautists, and a pair of kalika players. He with the czehar was the leader. That was common, as I was given to understand. Normally this would take place only at private parties for high-spirited males, rash, reckless, rowdy fellows, garlanded revelers, the sort of parties at which one might encounter flute girls, slave dancers, and such. Why should they, out here in the forest, be discussing tunes, czehars, flutes, kalikas, and such? I imagined her, exhibited naked on the block, in chains, dancing to the flute and tabor, to the snap of the auctioneer's whip her belly promising untold pleasure to the master who would buy her. I saw the miller's man approaching, with his basket of grain, followed by the dark-haired flute girl. He set his ladder against the stone, climbed the ladder, and poured the grain into the cavity within the stone. He then withdrew, setting the ladder aside, and disappeared, with his basket, returning to the receiving house, where grain was brought and weighed, and records kept. The flute girl then climbed to her perch, or platform, on the side, and sat upon it, her legs dangling over the edge. She, too, was camisked, and wore the mill collar. Shortly thereafter the switch slave, a large, strong woman, similarly camisked, arrived, her switch in hand. About her forehead was bound a broad, yellow fillet, from the wool of the bounding hurt. This held back her hair, of course, but its significance, in her case, was considerable. It was a talmit, indicative of rank. She was first girl in the mill yard. The flute girl began to play, and we dug in our feet and pressed our weight against the spokelike poles by means of which the stone was turned. With a heavy, grinding, sound, one we knew well, the heavy, conical stone began to rotate slowly on the thick, flat, circular, platelike stone from which the troughs descended. It was not unusual on this world, incidentally, for many activities to be accompanied by music which, on my former world, would not be likely to be so accompanied. Needless to say, I found this surprising. Warriors might perform martial exercises to music, in the manner of Pyrrhic dances, advancing, withdrawing, wheeling about, and such, brandishing weaponry; athletes might train to music; sa-tarna might be harvested to music; grain might be threshed to music, galleys might be rowed to music, and so on. Similarly, work songs are common in the fields. Warriors might sing battle hymns while moving to engage the enemy. Girls may sing at the looms, and at the potting wheels. Once, I had heard, the walls of a great city, Ar, defeated in war, had been dismantled, to the music of flute girls. Doubtless music has many practical applications. It might serve to coordinate activities it might serve to hearten; to inspirit, and lift hearts; it might be intended to seemingly shorten hours and lighten labors, and so on. The tunes played by our flute girl were not lively, of course, for one does not turn a stone with grace and sprightliness, but were measured to our tread, as we thrust against the poles. Sometimes, when we were resting, leaning on the poles, she would play as she wished. She was quite skilled. I wanted to tear her hair out. Most flute girls, as those who play the kalika, are slaves, as are most dancers. Most are owned by small companies, from which they may be rented. They are popular at dinners, small parties, banquets, symposiums, and such. They are usually attractive, and are rented for the night. The ka-la-nas were sparkling and mild, not the sort of coarse ka-la-nas commonly diluted in the wine crater, to a proportion agreed upon by guests, which only wild young men would be likely to drink unmixed, hailing one another with frightful jokes and bawdy songs, awaiting the arrival of the dancers and musicians, the drummers, the flute and kalika girls. I saw, centrally, a circle of sand, which, I supposed, was dancing sand. There were cushions to the side, probably for musicians. The accompaniment for a dancer can vary considerably, from as little as a single flute, often the case with a street dancer, to several individuals and a variety of instruments. A typical group would consist of a czehar player, usually the leader, one or two flautists, one or two players of the kalika, and a taborist. At that moment there was, from beyond the leather curtain, the sudden skirl of a flute, the swift strumming of a kalika, and the pounding of the tabor. "If it were night, indoors," said Kurik, "I would suppose any number of things, depending on the house, music, the kalika and czehar, the aulus and tabor, acrobats, jugglers, flute girls, eaters of fire, the reading of poetry the chanting of histories, professional tellers of stories, the singing and dancing of slaves, many things." We prepared to proceed when the door to the exchange house swung open, and two fellows emerged. During the moment the door was ajar, I saw lamps within, and some men milling about. Two held goblets, probably of paga. There was also a screen. I heard some music, a czehar tabor, and flute. I could not see the musicians. The ambiance of our journey suddenly changed, as he who carried me turned to the left. I heard the swinging of the leaves of a door, and then conversation, and the clink of goblets. A flute was playing somewhere inside. Later the czehar player would be joined by his fellows, two with kalikas, two with flutes, and one on the tabor. The czehar player was the leader of the group. That seems to be common. I also passed two stalls, in one of which a fellow was exhibiting drawings, paintings, carvings, and small pieces of metal artwork, while in the other a man was offering kaissa sets, cards, and dice for sale, displayed on a table, while, behind him, arranged on hooks and shelves, oddly enough, were flutes, tabors, and kalikas. The musicians arrived and took their places at the side of the dancing floor. There was a czehar player, two flutists, and a drummer, with the small tabor. They were followed by the taverner's man who had gone to fetch them. "There are no dancers," said the czehar player, who was the leader of the small group. "Ianthe and Aglaia are unavailable." "The czehar player has appeared," said Thurnock. "He has now joined the kalika player, the flautists, and a drummer." The beat is regulated by the keleustes, commonly on a drum or bar, but sometimes by voice. Occasionally this is done, particularly on large, ornate, slow-moving vessels, by flute. This is not as strange as it might seem, for on Gor, as in the ancient world on Earth, flute music was often used to time and regulate repetitious tasks and physical labor. Indeed, in many cities military exercises are timed and regulated by the flute.
There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires, gourds filled with pebbles,
A blast was blown, this on a large conch trumpet. This trumpet is called a horagai. It is sometimes used in Pani warfare as a battle horn, a signaling device to regulate the movements of troops. I had trained the cavalry, it might be recalled, to respond to the notes of such a device, a war horn. These, however, in the usual Gorean fashion, were formed of metal.
The serpent took its way between the cliffs, looming high on each side. Ivar Forkbeard, at the prow, lifted a great, curved bronze horn and blew a blast. I heard it echo among the cliffs. Amidships, crowded together, standing, facing the starboard side of the vessel, were the bond-maids and Aelgifu. She wore still her black velvet. They were in throat coffle; their wrists were fettered before their bodies. They looked upon the new country, harsh, forbidding, which was to be their home. I heard, perhaps from a pasang away, up the inlet, between the cliffs, the winding of a horn. Again Ivar Forkbeard winded the great bronze horn. In several seconds an answering blast echoed between the cliffs. I was jostled by a fellow blowing on a horn.
To one side, across a clearing from the fire, a bit in the background, was a group of nine musicians. They were not as yet playing, though one of them was absently tapping a rhythm on a small hand drum, the kaska; two others, with stringed instruments, were tuning them, putting their ears to the instruments. One of the instruments was an eight-stringed czehar, rather like a large flat oblong box; it is held across the lap when sitting cross-legged and is played with a horn pick; the other was the kalika, a six-stringed instrument; it, like the czehar, is flat-bridged and its strings are adjusted by means of small wooden cranks; on the other hand, it less resembles a low, flat box and suggests affinities to the banjo or guitar, though the sound box is hemispheric and the neck rather long; it, too, of course, like the czehar, is plucked; I have never seen a bowed instrument on Gor; also, I might mention, I have never on Gor seen any written music; I do not know if a notation exists; melodies are passed on from father to son, from master to apprentice. There was another kalika player, as well, but he was sitting there holding his instrument, watching the slave girls in the audience. The three flutists were polishing their instruments and talking together; it was shop talk I gathered, because one or the other would stop to illustrate some remark by a passage on his flute, and then one of the others would attempt to correct or improve on what he had done; occasionally their discussion grew heated. There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires, gourds filled with pebbles, slave bells mounted on hand rings, and such. These various things, from time to time, would be used not only by himself but by others in the group, probably the second kaska player and the third flutist. Among Gorean musicians, incidentally, czehar players have the most prestige; there was only one in this group, I noted, and he was their leader; next follow the flutists and then the players of the kalika; the players of the drums come next; and the farthest fellow down the list is the man who keeps the bag of miscellaneous instruments, playing them and parceling them out to others as needed. Lastly it might be mentioned, thinking it is of some interest, musicians on Gor are never enslaved; they may, of course, be exiled, tortured, slain and such; it is said, perhaps truly, that he who makes music must, like the tarn and the Vosk gull, be free. Now that the sport was done some Musicians filed in, taking up positions to one side. There was a czehar player, two players of the kalika, four flutists and a pair of kaska drummers. He had finished his gruel but he was sitting there listening to a slave girl, sitting on furs between the tables, playing a kalika. Several of the guards and staff had left the tables, retiring. Even the girls at the wall had been unchained and returned, after the evening's sport, to their cells. Phyllis and Virginia, and Elizabeth, had long since left the hall. Ho-Tu was fond of the music of the kalika, a six-stringed, plucked instrument, with a hemispheric sound box and long neck. Sura, I knew, played the instrument. Elizabeth, Virginia and Phyllis had been shown its rudiments, as well as something about the lyre, but they had not been expected to become proficient, nor were they given the time to become so; if their master, at a later date, after their sale, wished his girls to possess these particular attributes, which are seldom involved in the training of slave girls, he himself could pay for their instruction; the time of the girls, I noted, was rather fully occupied, without spending hours a day on music. The slave girl sitting on the furs, for the kalika is played either sitting or standing, bent over her instrument, her hair falling over the neck of it, lost in her music, a gentle, slow melody, rather sad. I had heard it sung some two years ago by the bargemen on the Cartius, a tributary of the Vosk, far to the south and west of Ar. Ho-Tu's eyes were closed. The horn spoon lay to the side of the empty gruel bowl. The girl had begun to hum the melody now, and Ho-Tu, almost inaudibly, but I could hear him, hummed it as well. "Caste sanctuary!" again pleaded Portus, on his knees before the table of Cernus. The girl with the kalika had lightly fled from between the tables. I turned about to examine the room. There were several chests there, doubtless containing silks, cosmetics, jewelry; there were also rich furs, on which I gathered she slept; in one corner there leaned a six-stringed kalika, long-necked, with its hemispheric sound box; I knew she played the instrument; on one wall, some feet away, hanging over a hook, I saw her slave goad. "Does Ho-Tu visit you often?" I asked. "Yes," said she. "I play the kalika for him. He cares for its sound." I, glancing about once again, saw the kalika in the corner. "Would you like me to play for you?" asked Sura. "I do not suppose you would care to play the kalika," I proposed. "No! No!" she cried. "The game! The game!" I tipped my Ubar, resigning. She clapped her hands delightedly. "Wouldn't you like to play the kalika?" I asked, hopefully. Ho-Tu spoke to her. "I will play with you, if you like," he said. "No, Ho-Tu," said she. "I would not like that." Then she left his arms, to pick up the kalika in the corner of her quarters. Smiling at him she then returned to the center of the compartment and sat down, cross-legged, for the instrument is commonly played that way, and bent over it. Her fingers touched the six strings, a note at a time, and then a melody, of the caravans of Tor, a song of love. A number of Musicians now filed out from the door at the foot of the block and took their places about it, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Those with string instruments began to tune them; there was a czehar player, the group's leader, some kalika players, some flutists, players of the kaska, small drums, and others. Each of these, in his way, prepared himself for the evening, sketching out melodies or sound patterns, lost with himself. As we spoke some five musicians entered the room and took their places to one side. There was a czehar player, two flutists, a kalika player, and a player on the kaska, a small hand drum. Within the holding I could hear the sound of flutes, drums and kalikas. The melody, however, was slow and decorous. There were seven musicians, who furnished the music for the dancers, a czehar player, their leader, two kalika players, three flutists and a kaska player. Tasdron kindly had brought these fellows from his tavern. "Such skills would seem to have a very low priority," he said. "For example, can you play the kalika?" "No," I said. Most of them, too, it seems, can do things like play the flute or kalika, sing, dance, tell jokes, and so on. They are generally versatile and talented people. Hendow gestured with his head to the musicians, and they made their way, one by one, through the beaded curtain. There were five of them, a czehar player, two kalika players, a flautist and a drummer. In a moment or two, as Mirus solicited further interest among the customers, I heard the sounds of the instruments, the czehar and kalikas being toned, the flautist trying passages, the drummer's fingers light on the taut skin of his instrument, the kaska, then adjusting it, then trying it again, then tapping lightly, then more vigorously, with swift, brief rhythms, limbering his wrists, fingers and hands. The music of Gor, or much of it, is very melodious and sensuous. Much of it seems made for the display of slaves before free men, but then, I suppose, that is exactly what it is made for. "To be sure," he said, "you cannot play the kalika, nor do you know the dances of the yearning, begging slave girl." The music of czehars, flutes, and kalikas, from scattered bands of musicians, swirled throughout the gigantic festival camp, spread over pasangs. There was the pounding of tabors, too, speaking of excitement and the rousings of blood. There was a skirl of music from the musicians outside, to one side of the sand, flutes, czehars, two kalikas, a tabor. With a swirl from the czehar and kalikas, and a pounding of the tabors, the dancers prostrated themselves in the sand, as slaves, and then, as Peisistratus struck his hands sharply together, they leapt up, and fled from the room, exiting through a portal, it curtained with dangling strands of blue and yellow beads, the caste colors of the slavers. The dancer was now kneeling in the sand, her head bowed, waiting for the first strumming of the kalika. She was nicely silked, in the diaphanous dancing silks of Gor. Her hair, long and dark, fell to the sand. A whispering sentence of notes emanated from the kalika, and the dancer rose gracefully to her feet, her knees flexed, her head still bowed, her hands at her thighs. There was the music of flutes, and a tabor, and one kalika, and a slave, she of one of Peisistratus' men, stamped her feet, and turned, and danced in the firelight. Bangles clashed upon her bared ankles. It is beautiful to see a slave dancing in the firelight. The tabor joined the flute, and then, suddenly, too, the kalika. I had seen them, serving quietly, demurely, in their masters' houses; I had seen them dancing in the firelight, in camps, to the rhythms of the czehar, the kalika, the flute, and tabor. Indeed, he may often bring in rent slaves from the party houses to sing and dance for him, and his guests, to play the kalika, to accompany with flute music the measuring of wine and the cutting of meat. "Do you know how to play the kalika?" I asked. "No, Master." Well now was I aware of how I might have responded had they been concerned less to routinely open a young slave and had they been more patient, slower, less merciful. What if they had been tortuously slow, reading my body, playing upon it, as on a czehar or kalika bringing forth what music they wished? He is concerned with her appearance. In the promenades she must look well on her leash. Perhaps he will have her taught the kalika or dance, dance such as is appropriate for such as she, slave dance. Usually, of course, they would be in the company of their masters, or, say, keepers, if they might be returning late from feasts, serving slaves, flute slaves, kalika slaves, brothel girls, dancers, or such. I knew that a yearning slave, to one side lying in her chains, must often await the outcome of such a game There was music in the tavern, a czehar player, a drummer, utilizing the small tabor, two flautists, and a pair of kalika players. He with the czehar was the leader. That was common, as I was given to understand. "You are not in a rich man's house, a pleasure garden, the palace of a Ubar," said Relia, "with little to do but sing and play the kalika." "More likely," said another, "with little to do until it was time to adorn your master's slave ring." "I do not know how to sing and play the kalika," I said. Why should they, out here in the forest, be discussing tunes, czehars, flutes, kalikas, and such? Most flute girls, as those who play the kalika, are slaves, as are most dancers. Most are owned by small companies, from which they may be rented. They are popular at dinners, small parties, banquets, symposiums, and such. They are usually attractive, and are rented for the night. The supper was pleasant and genteel, suitable for a quiet evening with friends. Nothing was boisterous or rowdy. The ka-la-nas were sparkling and mild, not the sort of coarse ka-la-nas commonly diluted in the wine crater, to a proportion agreed upon by guests, which only wild young men would be likely to drink unmixed, hailing one another with frightful jokes and bawdy songs, awaiting the arrival of the dancers and musicians, the drummers, the flute and kalika girls. After the better part of the Ahn, we had doubtless entered one of the gates of Brundisium, as I then heard the cries of vendors, the rolling of wheels, the snorting of draft beasts, the sounds of men, music, a kalika, from somewhere. I saw, centrally, a circle of sand, which, I supposed, was dancing sand. There were cushions to the side, probably for musicians. The accompaniment for a dancer can vary considerably, from as little as a single flute, often the case with a street dancer, to several individuals and a variety of instruments. A typical group would consist of a czehar player, usually the leader, one or two flautists, one or two players of the kalika, and a taborist. At that moment there was, from beyond the leather curtain, the sudden skirl of a flute, the swift strumming of a kalika, and the pounding of the tabor. He could play the body of a slave, producing a rapture of sensations, much as the master of the czehar or kalika can play his lovely instrument, drawing forth its laughter and tears, its moans and cries, its pensive contemplations, its incitements and ardors, its valleys and mountains, its depths and its ecstasies. "If it were night, indoors," said Kurik, "I would suppose any number of things, depending on the house, music, the kalika and czehar, the aulus and tabor, acrobats, jugglers, flute girls, eaters of fire, the reading of poetry the chanting of histories, professional tellers of stories, the singing and dancing of slaves, many things." Yesterday, one of oarsmen, in camp, had strummed a stringed instrument, a kalika. No dancer was now performing. Later the czehar player would be joined by his fellows, two with kalikas, two with flutes, and one on the tabor. The czehar player was the leader of the group. That seems to be common. I also passed two stalls, in one of which a fellow was exhibiting drawings, paintings, carvings, and small pieces of metal artwork, while in the other a man was offering kaissa sets, cards, and dice for sale, displayed on a table, while, behind him, arranged on hooks and shelves, oddly enough, were flutes, tabors, and kalikas. And you, Zia, an ignorant barbarian, untutored and illiterate. Were you to dance, you would be whipped from the floor. You cannot play the kalika. You are bereft of songs. What is to be said for you other than the fact that you, like Euphrosyne, look well in a collar, and obviously belong in one?" "The czehar player has appeared," said Thurnock. "He has now joined the kalika player, the flautists, and a drummer."
To one side, across a clearing from the fire, a bit in the background, was a group of nine musicians. They were not as yet playing, though one of them was absently tapping a rhythm on a small hand drum, the kaska; two others, with stringed instruments, were tuning them, putting their ears to the instruments. One of the instruments was an eight-stringed czehar, rather like a large flat oblong box; it is held across the lap when sitting cross-legged and is played with a horn pick; the other was the kalika, a six-stringed instrument; it, like the czehar, is flat-bridged and its strings are adjusted by means of small wooden cranks; on the other hand, it less resembles a low, flat box and suggests affinities to the banjo or guitar, though the sound box is hemispheric and the neck rather long; it, too, of course, like the czehar, is plucked; I have never seen a bowed instrument on Gor; also, I might mention, I have never on Gor seen any written music; I do not know if a notation exists; melodies are passed on from father to son, from master to apprentice. There was another kalika player, as well, but he was sitting there holding his instrument, watching the slave girls in the audience. The three flutists were polishing their instruments and talking together; it was shop talk I gathered, because one or the other would stop to illustrate some remark by a passage on his flute, and then one of the others would attempt to correct or improve on what he had done; occasionally their discussion grew heated. There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires, gourds filled with pebbles, slave bells mounted on hand rings, and such. These various things, from time to time, would be used not only by himself but by others in the group, probably the second kaska player and the third flutist. Among Gorean musicians, incidentally, czehar players have the most prestige; there was only one in this group, I noted, and he was their leader; next follow the flutists and then the players of the kalika; the players of the drums come next; and the farthest fellow down the list is the man who keeps the bag of miscellaneous instruments, playing them and parceling them out to others as needed. Lastly it might be mentioned, thinking it is of some interest, musicians on Gor are never enslaved; they may, of course, be exiled, tortured, slain and such; it is said, perhaps truly, that he who makes music must, like the tarn and the Vosk gull, be free. Now that the sport was done some Musicians filed in, taking up positions to one side. There was a czehar player, two players of the kalika, four flutists and a pair of kaska drummers. A number of Musicians now filed out from the door at the foot of the block and took their places about it, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Those with string instruments began to tune them; there was a czehar player, the group's leader, some kalika players, some flutists, players of the kaska, small drums, and others. Each of these, in his way, prepared himself for the evening, sketching out melodies or sound patterns, lost with himself. Her teacher was a cafe slave girl, Seleenya, rented from her master; her musicians were a flutist, hired early, and, later, a kaska player, to accompany him. Behind me, as I thrust apart the beads, I heard the pounding of the drum, the kaska, the silence, then the sound, as the flutist, his hands on her body, to the sound of the drum, instructed the girl in the line-length and intensity of one of the varieties of pre-abandonment pelvic thrusts. As we spoke some five musicians entered the room and took their places to one side. There was a czehar player, two flutists, a kalika player, and a player on the kaska, a small hand drum. There were seven musicians, who furnished the music for the dancers, a czehar player, their leader, two kalika players, three flutists and a kaska player. Hendow gestured with his head to the musicians, and they made their way, one by one, through the beaded curtain. There were five of them, a czehar player, two kalika players, a flautist and a drummer. In a moment or two, as Mirus solicited further interest among the customers, I heard the sounds of the instruments, the czehar and kalikas being toned, the flautist trying passages, the drummer's fingers light on the taut skin of his instrument, the kaska, then adjusting it, then trying it again, then tapping lightly, then more vigorously, with swift, brief rhythms, limbering his wrists, fingers and hands. The music of Gor, or much of it, is very melodious and sensuous. Much of it seems made for the display of slaves before free men, but then, I suppose, that is exactly what it is made for. I extended my hands to the sides, to various sides, as though pleading for mercy, to be released from the imperatives of the music, but then reacted, drawing back, as though I had seen the sight of whips or weapons. The kaska player, alert to this, reduced the volume of his drumming, and then, five times, smote hard upon the taut skin, almost like the cracking of a whip, to which I reacted, turning to one side and another, as though such a disciplinary device had been sounded menacingly, on all sides, in my vicinity, and then I continued to dance, helpless before the will of masters. There was a czehar player, their leader, two flutists, two kalika players, and a drummer with his tabor, slightly larger than the common kaska.
I could hear the slave bells, the song of Ute and the men, their clapping, the slapped rhythm on the leather shield. I tried to struggle. I heard the bells of Lana, the singing and clapping of Ute and the men, the slapping of the rhythm of Lana's dance on the leather of the shield.
I heard the music of a lute from somewhere. I could now see the girl playing the lute. She was lovely, as were the others. She was strolling about one of the pools. Two other girls, I now saw, were lying by the pool, putting their fingers in the water, making circles in the water. "This red-haired beauty," called the auctioneer, "is a catch of Captain Thrasymedes. She can play the lute." "You have free women in mind," she asked, "perhaps lute players." Similarly I was not versed in song, I was not skilled with lute or lyre, I did not even know the special dances of the gardens. Some girls, she knew, were taught to sing, others to entertain with instruments such as the lute and lyre, and others, it seemed, many, were trained in the dances of slaves. "Can you play a stringed musical instrument, a lyre, a lute, a samisen?"
She clapped her hands with delight. "It was I," she continued, "who apprehended and challenged him, I who saw the lyre beneath his gray robes and knew him for a singer. Ho-Tu was fond of the music of the kalika, a six-stringed, plucked instrument, with a hemispheric sound box and long neck. Sura, I knew, played the instrument. Elizabeth, Virginia and Phyllis had been shown its rudiments, as well as something about the lyre, but they had not been expected to become proficient, nor were they given the time to become so; if their master, at a later date, after their sale, wished his girls to possess these particular attributes, which are seldom involved in the training of slave girls, he himself could pay for their instruction; the time of the girls, I noted, was rather fully occupied, without spending hours a day on music. He wore the robes of his caste, the singers, and it was not known what city was his own. Many of the singers wander from place to place, selling their songs for bread and love. I had known, long ago, a singer, whose name was Andreas of Tor. We did have two pairs to be sold tonight, one consisting of a singer and her lyre player, and another of identical twins, from the island of Tabor, named for its resemblance to the small Gorean drum of that name. Earlier, as a portion of our entertainment, she had played on the lyre, and sung for us. She had been warmly applauded, which, I think, pleased muchly both the shy slave and her master. Miles of Vonda had had her trained in these skills. Miles of Vonda then picked up the lyre, which she had used earlier in entertaining us. With its strap he slung the small, lovely, curved, stringed instrument about her body, the strap over her right shoulder, the instrument behind her left hip. The delicacy of the instrument, with its suggestion of refinement, gentility and civilization, contrasted nicely with the barbarity of her luscious, enslaved nudity, the shreds of her tunic and her helpless, steel-clasped wrists. On the street, below, at the foot of the stairs, he ordered her to precede him. She then did so, well exposed in the shreds of the tunic, the delicate lyre slung behind her left hip, her wrists fastened behind her, with Gorean efficiency, in her master's steel. Similarly I was not versed in song, I was not skilled with lute or lyre, I did not even know the special dances of the gardens. Some girls, she knew, were taught to sing, others to entertain with instruments such as the lute and lyre, and others, it seemed, many, were trained in the dances of slaves. And doubtless millions of female slaves have been picked out for others, matched to others, to the best of the purchaser's ability, a slave who sings and recites, and plays the lyre, for a fellow who loves poetry and music, "Can you play a stringed musical instrument, a lyre, a lute, a samisen?" "No," she said. Of the first Alcinoë suggested that her value might be improved, if she could play the lyre. Of the second, Alcinoë wondered if slavers might be more interested in her, if she could dance. "What is that sound?" asked Thurnock. "It is the sound of a lyre," said Thrasymedes. "Tarchon, of the Council, is skilled with the instrument, and, when not engaged in defensive duties, often plays it." "That is his house?" I asked. "Yes," said Thrasymedes, "that house, the large one amongst the unharmed buildings." At the foot of the pole a lyre lay broken, its strings cut. I turned the lyre about in my hands, its frame broken, its strings dangling. "Give it to me," said Thrasymedes. "It did not betray a Home Stone. I shall wrap it in soft folds of scented silk and have it burned in honor." I handed the instrument to him. In some cities it is against the law to deface a scroll or damage a musical instrument. That is, I suppose, because Goreans respect such things. "How shamed it was, to have been touched by a hand so unworthy of its strings," said Thrasymedes. "I do not think that Tarchon would have injured the instrument," I said. "He took it with him in his escape. He loved it, if not his town, his Home Stone." "Mercenaries, in their vengeance, in their haste and fury," said Thrasymedes, "did this dreadful thing." I did not doubt that mercenaries had been guilty of destroying the instrument, probably before Tarchon's very eyes, before his impalement. "It was innocent," said Thrasymedes. "No longer will it whisper, cry, and sing." I was silent. A musical instrument had been destroyed. Goreans are unlikely to forget such things. I looked upon the broken lyre in the grasp of Thrasymedes, and, oddly, felt sorrow, and that a wrong had been done. "It is only an artifact," I reminded myself, "only a meaningless object." Thrasymedes then took his leave, carrying the broken lyre, wrapped within his robe.
To one side, across a clearing from the fire, a bit in the background, was a group of nine musicians. They were not as yet playing, though one of them was absently tapping a rhythm on a small hand drum, the kaska; two others, with stringed instruments, were tuning them, putting their ears to the instruments. One of the instruments was an eight-stringed czehar, rather like a large flat oblong box; it is held across the lap when sitting cross-legged and is played with a horn pick; the other was the kalika, a six-stringed instrument; it, like the czehar, is flat-bridged and its strings are adjusted by means of small wooden cranks; on the other hand, it less resembles a low, flat box and suggests affinities to the banjo or guitar, though the sound box is hemispheric and the neck rather long; it, too, of course, like the czehar, is plucked; I have never seen a bowed instrument on Gor; also, I might mention, I have never on Gor seen any written music; I do not know if a notation exists; melodies are passed on from father to son, from master to apprentice. There was another kalika player, as well, but he was sitting there holding his instrument, watching the slave girls in the audience. The three flutists were polishing their instruments and talking together; it was shop talk I gathered, because one or the other would stop to illustrate some remark by a passage on his flute, and then one of the others would attempt to correct or improve on what he had done; occasionally their discussion grew heated. There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires, gourds filled with pebbles, slave bells mounted on hand rings, and such. These various things, from time to time, would be used not only by himself but by others in the group, probably the second kaska player and the third flutist. Among Gorean musicians, incidentally, czehar players have the most prestige; there was only one in this group, I noted, and he was their leader; next follow the flutists and then the players of the kalika; the players of the drums come next; and the farthest fellow down the list is the man who keeps the bag of miscellaneous instruments, playing them and parceling them out to others as needed. Lastly it might be mentioned, thinking it is of some interest, musicians on Gor are never enslaved; they may, of course, be exiled, tortured, slain and such; it is said, perhaps truly, that he who makes music must, like the tarn and the Vosk gull, be free. Then the man with the drum of hollow rence root began to drum, and I heard some others join in with reed flutes, and one fellow had bits of metal, strung on a circular wire, and another a notched stick, played by scraping it with a flat spoon of rence root.
There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety,
From behind three or four of the low tables, to the left of the counter, a band of sweating musicians sat happily cross-legged on the rug, somehow producing from those unlikely pipes and strings and drums and disks and wires the ever intriguing, wild, enchanting beautiful barbaric melodies of Gor. I heard a drummer testing his instrument. I heard, too, some pipes. There was much cheering, and waving, and calling out, between the pier and the railing. Drums and pipes on board the Tais sounded. The drums and pipes aboard the Tais were sounding. There was other music, too, here and there, from the piers, greeting other ships. In a few moments, then, to drums and pipes, and cheers, I saw Aemilianus, unsupported, but obviously weak, make his own way down the gangplank.
Cancega, then, began a slow, shuffling dance. Two others, near him, also with roaches of feathers, shaking rattles, joined him. The focal point of this dance, which wove back and forth, in a fanlike motion, before it, was a high, white-barked tree. Cancega repeated, over and over, carrying the medicine wand, and dancing, "It is the tree." The other two fellows, who had joined him, with the rattles, would add a refrain, "It is tall and straight." This refrain, too, was sometimes echoed by those about us. Winyela then heard the rattles behind her, giving her her rhythm. These rattles were then joined by the firing of whistles, shrill and high, formed from the wing bones of the taloned Herlit. Suddenly we heard the shaking of rattles, the beating of small hand drums. The Yellow Knives opened their lines.
"Can you play a stringed musical instrument, a lyre, a lute, a samisen?" "No," she said. What Pani, at least of noble birth and refinement, would burn a well-wrought fan, a samisen, a lovely painted screen, or a poem?
For example, does a Priest-King have the same qualitative experience that I do when we are confronted by the same scent? I am inclined to doubt it, for their music, which consists of rhapsodies of odors produced by instruments constructed for this purpose, and often played by Priest-Kings, some of whom I am told are far more skillful than others, is intolerable to my ear, or I should say, nose. The antennae of the thousand Priest-Kings seemed almost motionless so intent were they on the beauties of the music. As the musicians continued to produce their rhapsodic, involute rhythms of aroma on the scent-producer, one Priest-King at a time, one after the other, would slowly stalk forward and approach the Platform of the Mother. But I now understood as I observed the slight, almost enraptured tremor of their antennae responding to the scent-music of the musicians that this was not a simple demonstration of their patience but a time of exaltation for them, of gathering, of bringing the Nest together, of reminding them of their common, remote origins and their long, shared history, of reminding them of their very being and nature, of what they perhaps alone in all the universe were Priest-Kings. Together, in silence to human ears but to the swelling intensities of scent-music, in stately, stalking procession the two Priest-Kings approached the Mother, and I saw Misk, first, dip his mouth to the great golden bowl on its tripod and then approach her. The scent-music suddenly stopped and the Priest-Kings seemed to rustle as though an unseen wind had suddenly stirred the leaves of autumn and I heard even the surprised jangling of those tiny metal tools.
The litany and responses of the congregation were now completed and the initiates, some twenty within the rail, began to sing in archaic Gorean. I could make out little of the wording. There was an accompaniment by sistrums.
There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine; and several other instruments of a percussion variety, bits of metal on wires, gourds filled with pebbles, slave bells mounted on hand rings,
I looked back at Janice who, hands tied behind her back, fastened in the coffle, lay on her side. I smiled. I think there is no music more pleasing to a man's ears than the moans of a yielding slave girl. Men, the arrogant, masterful beasts, thought Ellen, biting her lip, grinding her fingernails into the palms of her hands. How vulnerable we are! How they make us theirs! They play us like czehars, drawing what music they will from our bodies! Well now was I aware of how I might have responded had they been concerned less to routinely open a young slave and had they been more patient, slower, less merciful. What if they had been tortuously slow, reading my body, playing upon it, as on a czehar or kalika bringing forth what music they wished? The Gorean master does not request or petition but owns and takes. He handles his slave with assurance and authority, sometimes treating her as though she were in a bit and harness, and other times as though she were a vibrating, responding musical instrument from which he draws our tunes, tiny whimpers, soft moans, and cries, as he wishes. He could play the body of a slave, producing a rapture of sensations, much as the master of the czehar or kalika can play his lovely instrument, drawing forth its laughter and tears, its moans and cries, its pensive contemplations, its incitements and ardors, its valleys and mountains, its depths and its ecstasies. How well she then understands herself a slave, and how precious is the release when granted! But, mercifully, such torment is rare. Commonly, as her body is played upon, as a musical instrument, she is brought to successions of crescendos of ecstasy.
Some of the beasts were striking on small bars, which, we gathered, constituted a form of music. A few Ehn later, there was a sharp ringing sound, resulting one supposes from the striking of one of the small bars, to the sounds of which the Lady Bina amongst other festal tokens, had been welcomed to the Cave.
Within the stockade of the Mamba people there was much light and noise. I could hear the sounds of their musical instruments, and the pounding of the drums. Too, we could hear, within, the sounds of chanting and the beatings of the sticks carried in the hands of the dancers.
A skirl on a flute and a sudden pounding on twin tabors, small, hand drums, called my attention to the square of sand at the side of which sat the musicians. I heard a swirl from a flute, the simple flute, not the double flute, and the quick pounding of a small tabor, these instruments now in the hands of Philebus' assistants. The two fellows who had supplied the music were silent. One wiped the flute, the other was addressing himself to the tabor, loosening some pegs, relaxing the tension of the drumhead. The drumhead is usually made of verrskin, as most often are wineskins. "Can they dance?" asked the burly fellow, as though his mind might not yet be made up. The taborist looked up. "Alas, no," cried Philebus, in mock dismay, "none of my girls are dancers!" The taborist continued his work. Philebus glanced at his fellows, and the one tried a short schedule of notes on the flute, the other retightened the pegs on the tabor. I heard the sound of a tabor several yards away, and the swirl of a flute, and the clapping of hands. A lad danced past, pounding on a tabor. The music of czehars, flutes, and kalikas, from scattered bands of musicians, swirled throughout the gigantic festival camp, spread over pasangs. There was the pounding of tabors, too, speaking of excitement and the rousings of blood. There was a skirl of music from the musicians outside, to one side of the sand, flutes, czehars, two kalikas, a tabor. With a swirl from the czehar and kalikas, and a pounding of the tabors, the dancers prostrated themselves in the sand, as slaves, and then, as Peisistratus struck his hands sharply together, they leapt up, and fled from the room, exiting through a portal, it curtained with dangling strands of blue and yellow beads, the caste colors of the slavers. There was the music of flutes, and a tabor, and one kalika, and a slave, she of one of Peisistratus' men, stamped her feet, and turned, and danced in the firelight. Bangles clashed upon her bared ankles. It is beautiful to see a slave dancing in the firelight. Or in the light of torches, or candles, in some such natural light. The tabor joined the flute, and then, suddenly, too, the kalika. I had seen them dancing in the firelight, in camps, to the rhythms of the czehar, the kalika, the flute, and tabor. "A tabor is a drum," I said. I knew that a yearning slave, to one side lying in her chains, must often await the outcome of such a game There was music in the tavern, a czehar player, a drummer, utilizing the small tabor, two flautists, and a pair of kalika players. He with the czehar was the leader. That was common, as I was given to understand. I imagined her, exhibited naked on the block, in chains, dancing to the flute and tabor, to the snap of the auctioneer's whip her belly promising untold pleasure to the master who would buy her. I saw, centrally, a circle of sand, which, I supposed, was dancing sand. There were cushions to the side, probably for musicians. The accompaniment for a dancer can vary considerably, from as little as a single flute, often the case with a street dancer, to several individuals and a variety of instruments. A typical group would consist of a czehar player, usually the leader, one or two flautists, one or two players of the kalika, and a taborist. At that moment there was, from beyond the leather curtain, the sudden skirl of a flute, the swift strumming of a kalika, and the pounding of the tabor. "If it were night, indoors," said Kurik, "I would suppose any number of things, depending on the house, music, the kalika and czehar, the aulus and tabor, acrobats, jugglers, flute girls, eaters of fire, the reading of poetry the chanting of histories, professional tellers of stories, the singing and dancing of slaves, many things." We prepared to proceed when the door to the exchange house swung open, and two fellows emerged. During the moment the door was ajar, I saw lamps within, and some men milling about. Two held goblets, probably of paga. There was also a screen. I heard some music, a czehar tabor, and flute. I could not see the musicians. They and, I supposed, the wheel, were behind the screen. No dancer was now performing. Later the czehar player would be joined by his fellows, two with kalikas, two with flutes, and one on the tabor. The czehar player was the leader of the group. That seems to be common. I also passed two stalls, in one of which a fellow was exhibiting drawings, paintings, carvings, and small pieces of metal artwork, while in the other a man was offering kaissa sets, cards, and dice for sale, displayed on a table, while, behind him, arranged on hooks and shelves, oddly enough, were flutes, tabors, and kalikas. The musicians arrived and took their places at the side of the dancing floor. There was a czehar player, two flutists, and a drummer, with the small tabor. They were followed by the taverner's man who had gone to fetch them. "There are no dancers," said the czehar player, who was the leader of the small group. "Ianthe and Aglaia are unavailable."
There was also a second drummer, also with kaska, and another fellow, a younger one, who sat very seriously before what appeared to me to be a pile of objects; among them was a notched stick, played by sliding a polished tem-wood stick across its surface; cymbals of various sorts; what was obviously a tambourine;
A motion was on the floor that a new preserve in the northern forests be obtained, that more timber for the arsenal be available. In the northern forests Port Kar already had several such preserves. There is a ceremony in the establishment of such a preserve, involving proclamations and the soundings of trumpets. Below in the streets we heard trumpets. Men were shouting. We saw some waving banners, bearing the design of the house of Sevarius. They were trying to urge men into the streets to support them. "Henrius Sevarius," they were crying, "Ubar of Port Kar." We heard music in the distance, trumpets, drums and cymbals. We looked at one another, scarcely able to restrain ourselves. The drums, the cymbals, the trumpets, were now quite close. I lifted up an edge of the rain canvas and peeped through. Behind him came musicians, with their trumpets, and cymbals and drums. They, too, wore skins, and the heads of forest panthers. I heard the blare of the trumpets, the clash of the cymbals, the pounding of the drums. The men shouted. Women cursed, and screamed their hatred of the panther girls. We heard the drums, the trumpets and clashing cymbals growing fainter, down the street, as the retinue continued on its way. At any rate, there was little doubt that the features of their Tatrix had now become well known in Corcyrus, at least to many of her citizens. Indeed, only this morning I, unveiled, in a large, open, silken palanquin, borne by slaves, Ligurious at my side, had been carried through the streets of Corcyrus, behind trumpets and drums, flanked by guards, through cheering crowds. Otherwise, had I gone abroad in the robes of the Tatrix, we would have been encumbered by guards and crowds; we would have had to travel in a palanquin; we would have been forced to tolerate the annunciatory drums and trumpets, and put up with all the noisy, ostentatious, dreary panoply of office. Outside, in the canal traffic, I heard a drum, cymbals and trumpets, and a man shouting. He was proclaiming the excellencies of some theatrical troupe, such as the cleverness of its clowns and the beauty of its actresses, probably slaves. Outside I could hear the sounds of yet another troupe traversing the canal, with its raucous cries, its drums and trumpets. A blast was blown, this on a large conch trumpet. This trumpet is called a horagai. It is sometimes used in Pani warfare as a battle horn, a signaling device to regulate the movements of troops. I had trained the cavalry, it might be recalled, to respond to the notes of such a device, a war horn. These, however, in the usual Gorean fashion, were formed of metal. I heard, frightened, crowded with the others, in the darkness, from outside, from the other side of the doors, the penetrating blast of a festive trumpet and a cry of eagerness, of anticipation, from a crowd, and, mixed therein, the wild roars and howls of excited Kurii. "What is going on?" cried a woman. "I do not know!" I said. "I know the trumpet!" cried a woman. "Yes!" cried another. "Yes," said another "it is the trumpet!" "What trumpet?" I asked. "Such trumpets announce the games," said one of us, in the darkness. "What games?" I asked. "Arena games!" said another. "You heard the trumpet," said another. "It is an arena trumpet. There are games. We are prizes. It is common in arena sports, in the killing games, the beast fights, in the tarn races, the races of kaiila and tharlarion, as in the contests of dramas, of choral song, of music, and poetry, to include kajirae amongst the winnings, amongst the spoils of victory. What do men care more for than power, gold, silver, and women?" At the height of the tiers, on a separate platform, raised above the last tier, there was a helmeted fellow in the garb of the House of a Hundred Corridors, who stood near a stand on which there was fixed a large trumpet. It was that trumpet, I supposed, that had emitted the blast that had initiated the games, if one might so refer to them. We looked up to the platform of the trumpeter. The great trumpet, in its mount, was not tended. The platform was bare.
It is a joke of young Goreans to sometimes whistle, or hum, such melodies, apparently innocently, in the presence of free women who, of course, are not familiar with them, and do not understand their origins or significance, and then to watch them become restless, and, usually, after a time, disturbed and apprehensive, hurry away. "It is a tune whistle," said Axel. "See the tiny holes. It is a pleasure to occasionally while away the time with it in a camp." "Play us a tune," said Aeson. "See how it is bent," said Axel. "It is defective. I would have it repaired." "Try it," said Aeson. "Even when new," said Axel, "not everyone could sound if and it is now broken." "It requires strength to sound it?" asked Aeson. "Yes," said Axel. "Nonsense," said Genak. "Even a slave could sound so little a thing." Axel laughed and slipped the whistle on its strap over his head. "Let us see," he said, motioning me to him. I approached him, and knelt, the large bottle supported in its net, the sling running from my left shoulder to my right hip. As I am right-handed, I would guide the neck of the bottle with the left hand, and lift and tip it with the right hand. Axel handed me the whistle. It was bent. It did have tiny holes in its barrel. It was not large. It was about two horts in length, perhaps a little longer. "About my neck," said Axel, "as is known to several, say, Aeson and Genak, and some others, hangs a small musical instrument, a whistle, which few can sound. As you are a large, strong fellow, and leader, he of most prowess we must assume, I wager that only you, of all in the camp, could sound the instrument."
I glanced within, for I heard from within the clash of slave bells and the bright sound of zills, or finger cymbals. Had he wondered what she would look like, long ago, when she was his teacher, she wondered, if she were to so dance before him, barefoot, in a bit of swirling silk, in necklaces and coins, in armlets, with bracelets on her wrists and bangles on her ankles, to the flash of ringing zills, summoned, commanded, fearful, begging to please, his. |       
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