JК
Tarnsman of Gor :: Норман Джон
Страница: 59 из 145"Why do youwear these silly things?"
"The daughter of a Ubar must look down on her subjects," was the simple if extraordinary reply.
When she stood up, now barefoot, her head came only a little higher than my chin. She might have been a bit taller than the average Gorean girl, but not much. She kept her eyes sullenly down, unwilling to raise them to look into my own. The daughter of a Ubar looked up to no man.
"I order you to protect me," she said, never taking her eyes from the ground.
"I do not take orders from the daughter of the Ubar of Ar," I said.
"You must take me with you," she said, eyes still downcast.
"Why?" I asked. After all, according to the rude codes of Gor, I owed her nothing; indeed, considering her attempt on my life, which had been foiled only by the fortuitous net of Nar's web, I would have been within my rights to slay her, abandoning her body to the water lizards. Naturally, I was not looking at things from precisely the Gorean point of view, but she would have no way of knowing that. How could she know that I would not treat her as — according to the rough justice of Gor — she deserved?
"You must protect me," she said. There was something of a pleading note in her voice.
"Why?" I asked, feeling angry.
"Because I need your help," she said. Then she angrily snapped, "You need not have made me say that!" She had lifted her head in fury, and she looked up into my eyes for an instant, and then suddenly lowered her head again, trembling with rage.
"Do you ask my favor?" I asked, which, on Gor, was much like asking if the person was willing to make a request — more simply, to say, "Please." To that small particle of respect it seemed I had a right.
Suddenly she seemed strangely docile.
"Yes," she said. "Stranger, I, the daughter of the Ubar of Ar, ask your favor. I ask you to protect me."
"You tried to kill me," I said. "For all I know, you may still be an enemy."
There was a long pause in which neither of us spoke.
"I know what you are waiting for," said the daughter of the Ubar, strangely calm after her earlier fury — unnaturally calm, it seemed to me. I didn't understand her. What was it she thought I was waiting for? Then, to my astonishment, the daughter of the Ubar Marlenus, daughter of the Ubar of Ar, knelt before me, a simple warrior of Ko-ro-ba, and lowered her head, lifting and extending, her arms, the wrists crossed.
"The daughter of a Ubar must look down on her subjects," was the simple if extraordinary reply.
When she stood up, now barefoot, her head came only a little higher than my chin. She might have been a bit taller than the average Gorean girl, but not much. She kept her eyes sullenly down, unwilling to raise them to look into my own. The daughter of a Ubar looked up to no man.
"I order you to protect me," she said, never taking her eyes from the ground.
"I do not take orders from the daughter of the Ubar of Ar," I said.
"You must take me with you," she said, eyes still downcast.
"Why?" I asked. After all, according to the rude codes of Gor, I owed her nothing; indeed, considering her attempt on my life, which had been foiled only by the fortuitous net of Nar's web, I would have been within my rights to slay her, abandoning her body to the water lizards. Naturally, I was not looking at things from precisely the Gorean point of view, but she would have no way of knowing that. How could she know that I would not treat her as — according to the rough justice of Gor — she deserved?
"You must protect me," she said. There was something of a pleading note in her voice.
"Why?" I asked, feeling angry.
"Because I need your help," she said. Then she angrily snapped, "You need not have made me say that!" She had lifted her head in fury, and she looked up into my eyes for an instant, and then suddenly lowered her head again, trembling with rage.
"Do you ask my favor?" I asked, which, on Gor, was much like asking if the person was willing to make a request — more simply, to say, "Please." To that small particle of respect it seemed I had a right.
Suddenly she seemed strangely docile.
"Yes," she said. "Stranger, I, the daughter of the Ubar of Ar, ask your favor. I ask you to protect me."
"You tried to kill me," I said. "For all I know, you may still be an enemy."
There was a long pause in which neither of us spoke.
"I know what you are waiting for," said the daughter of the Ubar, strangely calm after her earlier fury — unnaturally calm, it seemed to me. I didn't understand her. What was it she thought I was waiting for? Then, to my astonishment, the daughter of the Ubar Marlenus, daughter of the Ubar of Ar, knelt before me, a simple warrior of Ko-ro-ba, and lowered her head, lifting and extending, her arms, the wrists crossed.