I have sometimes thought that the Goreans might do well to learn something of tenderness, and, perhaps, that those of Earth might do well to learn something of hardness. But I do not know how to live. I have sought the answers, but I have not found them.The morality of slaves says. “You are equal to me; we are both the same”; the morality ofmasters says. “ We are not equal; we are not the same; become equal to me; then we will be the same.” The morality of slaves reduces all to bondage; the morality of masters encourages all to attain, if they can, the heights of freedom. I know of no prouder, more self-reliant, more magnificent creature than the free Gorean, male or female: they are often touchy, and viciously tempered, but they are seldom petty or small: moreover they do not hate and fear their bodies or their instincts; when they restrain themselves it is a victory overtitanic forces; not the consequence of a slow metabolism; but sometimes they do not restrain themselves; they do not assume that their instincts and blood are enemies and spies, saboteurs in the house of themselves; they know them and welcome them as part of their persons; they are as little suspicious of themas the cat of its cruelty, or the lion of its hunger; their desire for vengeance, their will to speak out and defend themselves, their lust, they regard as intrinsically and gloriously a portion of themselves as their thinking or their hearing.Many Earth moralities make people little; the object of Gorean morality, for all its faults, is to make people free and great. These objectives are quiet different it is clear to see. Accordingly, one would expectthat the implementing moralities would, also be considerably different.
I sat in the darkness and thought on these things. There were no maps for me.
I, Tarl Talbot, or Bosk of Port Kar, was torn between worlds.
I did not know how to live.
I was bitter.
But the Goreans have a saying, which came to me in the darkness, in the hall,“Do not ask the stones or the trees how to live; they cannot tell you; they do not have tongues; do not ask the wise man how to live, for, if he knows, he will know he cannot tell you; if you would learn how to live, do not ask the question; its answer is not in the question but in the answer, which is not in words; do not ask how to live, but, instead, proceed to do so.”
I do not fully understand this saying. How, for example, can one proceed to do what one doers not know how to do?The answer,I suspect, is that the Gorean belief is that one does, truly,in some way, know how to live, though one may not know that one knows.The knowledge is regarded as being somehow within one.Perhaps it is regarded as being somehow innate, or a function of instincts.I do not know. The saying may also be interpreted as encouraging one to act, to behave, to do and then, in the acting, the doing, the behaving, to learn.These two interpretations, of course, are not incompatible.The child, one supposes, hasthe innate disposition, when a certainmaturation level is attained, to struggle to its feet and walk, as it did to crawl, when an earlier level was attained, and yet it truly learns to crawl and to walk and then to run, only in the crawling, in the walking and running.
The refrain ran through my mind. “Do not ask how to live, but, instead, proceed to do so”
But how could I live, I, a cripple, huddled in the chair of a captain, in a darkened hall?
I was rich, but I envied the meanest herder of verr, the lowest peasant scattering dung in his furrows, for they could move as they pleased.
I tried to clench my left fist. But the hand did not move.
How should one live?
In the codes of the warriors, there isa saying, “Be strong, and do as you will. The swords of others will set your limits.”
I had been one of the finest swordsmen on Gor. But now I could not move the left side of my body.
But I could still command steel, that of my men, who, for no reason I understood, they Goreans, remained true to me, loyal to a cripple, confined to a captain’s chair in a darkened hall.
I was grateful to them, but I would show them nothing of this, for I was a captain.
They must not be demeaned.
“Within the circle of each man’s sword,” say the codes of the warrior, “therein is each man a Ubar”
“Steel is the coinage of the warrior,” say the codes, “With it he purchases what pleases him”
When I had returned from the northern forests I had resolved not to look upon Talena, once daughter of Marlenus of Ar, whom Samos had purchased from panther girls.
But I had had my hair carried to his hall.
“Shall I present her to you” asked Samos, “ naked and in bracelets?”
“No,” I had said.” Present her in the most resplendent robes you can find, as befits a high-born woman of the city of Ar. ”
“But she is a slave,” he said. “ Her thigh bears the brand of Treve. Her throat is encircled in the collar of my house”
“As befits,” said I, “ a high-born woman of the city ofglorious Ar.”
And so it was that she, Talena, once daughter of Marlenus of Ar, then disowned, once my companion, was ushered into my presence.
“The slave,” said Samos.
“Don not kneel,” I said to her.
“strip your face, Slave,” said Samos.
Gracefully the girl, the property of Samos, first slaver of Port Kar, removed her veil, unfastening it, dropping it about her shoulders.
We looked once more upon each other.
I saw again those marvellous green eyes, those lips, luscious, perfect for crushing beneath a warrior’s mouth and teeth, the subtle complexion, olive. She removed a pin from her hair, and, with a small movement of her head, shook loose the wealth of her sable hair.
We regarded one another.
“Is master pleased?” she asked.
“It has been a long time, Talena,” said I.
“Yes,” she said, “it has been long,”
“He is free,” said Samos.
“It has been long, Master,” she said.
“Many years,” said I. “ Many years.” I smiled at her. “ I last saw you on the night of our companionship.”
“When I awakened, you were gone,” she said. “ I was abandoned.”
“Not of my own free will did I leave you,” said I. “ That was not of my will”
I saw in the eyes of Samos that I must not speak of Priest-Kings. It had been them who had returned me then to Earth.
“I do not believe you,” she said.
“Watch your tongue, Girl.” said Samos.
“If you command me to believe you,” she said,” I shall, of course, for I am slave.”
I smiled. “No,” I said, “ I do not command you.”
“ I was kept in greathonor in Ko-ro-ba, “ she said, “ respected and free, for I had been your companion even after the year of companionship had gone, and it had not been renewed.”
At that point, in Gorean law, the companionship had been dissolved. The companionship had not been renewed by the twentieth hour, the Gorean Midnight, of its anniversary.
“When Priest-kings, by fire signs, made it clearKo-ro-ba was to be destroyed, I left the city.”
No stone would be allowed to stand upon another stone, no man of Ko-ro-ba to stand by another.
The population had been scattered, the city razed by the power of the Priest-Kings.
“Youfell slave,” I said.
:”Within five days,” she said, “ as I tried to return to Ar, I was sheltered by an itinerant leather worker, who did not believe, of course, that I was the daughter of Marlenus of Ar. He treated me well the first evening, with gentleness and honor. I was grateful. In the morning, to his laughter, I awakened. His collar was on my throat.” She looked at me, angrily. “He then used me well. Do you understand? He forced me to yield to him, I, the daughter of Marlenus of Ar, he only a leather worker. Afterwards he whipped me. He taught me to obey. At night he chained me. He sold me to a salt merchant.” She regarded me. “I have had many masters,” she said.