before it receives the nourishment of milk."
Feiqa shrank back, frightened to be among such men.
On the face of Genserix, and on the faces of those about us, the males, were the thin, white, knife-edge lines, the narrow scars, by which it might be known that each had, in his time, undergone the same ceremony. By such scars one may identify Alars.
"I rejoice in your happiness," I said to Genserix, who had now resumed his place by the fire.
Genserix declined his head briefly, smiling, and spread his hands, expansively.
"At a time of such happiness," said a fellow, his long dark hair bound back with a beaded leather talmit, "you need not even be killed for having come to our camp uninvited."
"Hold," I said, uneasily. "I was told in the camp of the wagoners, some of those in the supply trains of Cos, that there might be work here for me."
One or two of the men struck each other about the shoulders in amusement.
"I gather that is not true," I said.
"Shall we kill him anyway?" asked a fellow.
"Surely folks come often to the wagons," I said.
"Do not mind Parthanx and Sorath," said a tall, broad shouldered fellow sitting cross-legged beside me. He, too, like Genserix, had long, braided hair and a yellow mustache. Too like Genserix, he was blue-eyed. Many of the Alars are fair in complexion, blond-haired and blue-eyed. "They jest. They are the camp wits," he explained. "Many folks come (pg. 47) to the wagons, as you know, informers, slavers, tradesmen, metal workers, craftsmen, peasants who will barter produce for skins and trinkets, and so on. If this were not so we could not easily have the goods we have, nor could we keep up as well with the news. If it were not so, we would be too cut off from the world. We would consequently be unable to conduct our affairs as judiciously as we do."
I nodded. Folk like the Alars tended to move in, and about, settled territories. They were not isolated in vast plains areas, for example, as were certain subequatorial Wagon Peoples, such as Tuchucks and Kassars.
The fellows identified as Parthanx and Sorath shoved at one another good-naturedly, pleased with their joke.
"Let rings be brought!" called out Genserix.
"I am Hurtha," said the blond fellow beside me. "You must not think of us as barbarians. Tell us about the cities."
"What would you like to know?" I asked. He would be interested, I assumed in such matters as the nature of their walls, the number of gates, their defenses, the strength of garrisons, and such.
"Is Ar as beautiful as they say?" he asked. "And what is it like to live there?"
"It is very beautiful," I said. "And although I am not a citizen of Ar, nor of Telnus, the capital of Cos, it is doubtless easier to live in such places than among the wagons. Why do you ask?"
"Hurtha is a weakling, and a poet!" laughed Sorath.
"I am a warrior, and an Alar," said Hurtha, "but it is true that I am fond of songs."
"There is no incompatibility between letters and arms," I said. "The greatest soldiers are often gifted men."
"I have considered going abroad, to seek my fortune," he said.
"What would you do?" I asked.
"My arm is strong," he said, "and I can ride."
"You would seek service then with some captain?" I said.
"Yes," he said, "and if possible with the finest."
"Many are the causes on Gor," I said, "and so, too, many are the captains."
(pg. 48) "My first appointments," he said, "might be with anyone."
"Many captains," I said, "choose their causes on the scales of merchants, weighing their iron against gold. They fight, I fear, only for the Ubar with the deepest purse."
"I am an Alar," said Hurtha. "The cities are always at war with us. It is always the fields against the walls. No matter then which way I face, nor whom I strike, it would be a blow, against enemies."
" I am a mercenary, of sorts," I said, "but I have usually selected my causes with care."
"And one should," agreed Hurtha, "for otherwise one might not improve one's fortunes."
I looked at
Feiqa shrank back, frightened to be among such men.
On the face of Genserix, and on the faces of those about us, the males, were the thin, white, knife-edge lines, the narrow scars, by which it might be known that each had, in his time, undergone the same ceremony. By such scars one may identify Alars.
"I rejoice in your happiness," I said to Genserix, who had now resumed his place by the fire.
Genserix declined his head briefly, smiling, and spread his hands, expansively.
"At a time of such happiness," said a fellow, his long dark hair bound back with a beaded leather talmit, "you need not even be killed for having come to our camp uninvited."
"Hold," I said, uneasily. "I was told in the camp of the wagoners, some of those in the supply trains of Cos, that there might be work here for me."
One or two of the men struck each other about the shoulders in amusement.
"I gather that is not true," I said.
"Shall we kill him anyway?" asked a fellow.
"Surely folks come often to the wagons," I said.
"Do not mind Parthanx and Sorath," said a tall, broad shouldered fellow sitting cross-legged beside me. He, too, like Genserix, had long, braided hair and a yellow mustache. Too like Genserix, he was blue-eyed. Many of the Alars are fair in complexion, blond-haired and blue-eyed. "They jest. They are the camp wits," he explained. "Many folks come (pg. 47) to the wagons, as you know, informers, slavers, tradesmen, metal workers, craftsmen, peasants who will barter produce for skins and trinkets, and so on. If this were not so we could not easily have the goods we have, nor could we keep up as well with the news. If it were not so, we would be too cut off from the world. We would consequently be unable to conduct our affairs as judiciously as we do."
I nodded. Folk like the Alars tended to move in, and about, settled territories. They were not isolated in vast plains areas, for example, as were certain subequatorial Wagon Peoples, such as Tuchucks and Kassars.
The fellows identified as Parthanx and Sorath shoved at one another good-naturedly, pleased with their joke.
"Let rings be brought!" called out Genserix.
"I am Hurtha," said the blond fellow beside me. "You must not think of us as barbarians. Tell us about the cities."
"What would you like to know?" I asked. He would be interested, I assumed in such matters as the nature of their walls, the number of gates, their defenses, the strength of garrisons, and such.
"Is Ar as beautiful as they say?" he asked. "And what is it like to live there?"
"It is very beautiful," I said. "And although I am not a citizen of Ar, nor of Telnus, the capital of Cos, it is doubtless easier to live in such places than among the wagons. Why do you ask?"
"Hurtha is a weakling, and a poet!" laughed Sorath.
"I am a warrior, and an Alar," said Hurtha, "but it is true that I am fond of songs."
"There is no incompatibility between letters and arms," I said. "The greatest soldiers are often gifted men."
"I have considered going abroad, to seek my fortune," he said.
"What would you do?" I asked.
"My arm is strong," he said, "and I can ride."
"You would seek service then with some captain?" I said.
"Yes," he said, "and if possible with the finest."
"Many are the causes on Gor," I said, "and so, too, many are the captains."
(pg. 48) "My first appointments," he said, "might be with anyone."
"Many captains," I said, "choose their causes on the scales of merchants, weighing their iron against gold. They fight, I fear, only for the Ubar with the deepest purse."
"I am an Alar," said Hurtha. "The cities are always at war with us. It is always the fields against the walls. No matter then which way I face, nor whom I strike, it would be a blow, against enemies."
" I am a mercenary, of sorts," I said, "but I have usually selected my causes with care."
"And one should," agreed Hurtha, "for otherwise one might not improve one's fortunes."
I looked at
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