Glory to the Black Caste
- Tarnsman Of GorBlack Caste References: Assassin
Of Gor.
This page contains all of the references made throughout the John Norman book, Assassin of Gor, regarding the Black Caste Assassins.
And even Kuurus, of the Caste of Assassins, knew that a city can not die while its Home Stone survives. Kuurus, who would think little of me on the whole, yet could not despise such men as these, these of Ko-ro-ba.
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Those who had come to the pyre had now withdrawn slowly to the city. Only one man remained near the pile of smoking wood. He wore a black robe with a stripe of white down the front and back., but not the full black, of the Assassin, who would deal with him. Kuurus smiled bitterly to himself. He laughed at the stripe of white. Their tunic, said Kuurus to himself, is as black as mine. When the man near the smoking wood turned to face him, Kuurus decended the hill. He was now welcome. Kuurus smiled to himself.
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The man did not greet him, nor did Kuurus lift his hand to the man, palm inward, saying "Tal."
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Without speaking the man took 20 pieces of gold, tarn disks of Ar, of double weight, and gave them to Kuurus who placed them in the pockets of his belt. The Assassin, unlike most Castes, do not carry pouches.
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"Justice must be done," said the man.
Kuurus said nothing, but only looked at the man. Often, though not always, they spoke of justice, he said to himself. And of right. It eases them and gives them peace. There is no such thing as Justice, said Kuurus, to himself. THere is only Gold and Steel.
"Whom am I to kill? Asked Kuurus.
"I do not know," said the man
Kuurus looked at him angrily. Yet he had in the pockets of his belt twenty gold tarn disks, and of double weight. There must be more.
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"I shall go to Ar," said Kuurus.
"if you are successful," said the man "return and you will recieve a hundred such pieces of gold."
Kuurus looked at him. "if it is not true," he said, "you will die."
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Kuurus, of the Caste of Assassins, entered the great gate of Ar. Guardsmen did not detain him, for he wore on his fore-head, the mark of the black dagger.
Not for many years had the tunic of the Assassins been seen within the walls of Ar, not since the siege of that city in 10,110 from its founding, in the days of Marlenus, who had been Ubar; of Pa-Kur, who had been Master of the Assassins; and of the Ko-ro-ba warrior, in the songs called Tarl of Bristol.
For years the black of the Assassins had been outlawed in the city
Pa-Kur, who had been Master of the Assassins, had led a league of tributary cities to attack Imperial Ar in the time when its Home Stone had been stolen and its Ubar forced to flee. The city had fallen and Pa-Kur, though of low caste, had imspired to inherit the imperial mantle of Marlenus. Had dared to lift his eyes to the throne of Empire and place about his neck the golden medallion of a Ubar, a thing forbidden to such as he, in the myths of the Counter Earth.
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Tarl of Bristol himself on the windy height of Ar's Cylinder of Justice had defeated Pa-Kur, Master of the Assassins. From that time the black of the Assassins had not been seen in the streets of Glorious Ar.
Yet none would stand in the way of Kuurus for he wore on his forehead, small and fine, the sign of the black dagger.
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When he of the Caste of Assassins has been paid his gold and has recieved his charge he affixes on his forehead that sign, that he may enter any city he pleases, that none may interfere with his work.
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When he of the caste of Asassins has been paid his gold and has recieved his charge he affixes on his forehead that sign,that he may enter whatever city he pleases, that none may interfere with his work.
There are few men that have done great wrong who have powerful, rich enemies who do not tremble upon learning that one has been brought to their city who wears the dagger.
A woman carrying a market basket moved to one side, watching him, that she might not touch him, holding a child to her.
A peasant moved away that the shadow of the Asassin might not fall across his own.
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At the Paga Tavern, one near the great gate, cheap and crowed, dingy and smelling, a place frequented by strangers and small Merchants, the Assassin took the girl by the arm and thrust her within. Those in the Tavern looked up from the low tables. There were three musicians against one wall. They stopped playing. The slave girls in Pleasure Silks turned and stood stock still, the Paga flasks cradled over their right forearms. Not even the bells locked to their left ankles made a sound. Not a Paga bowl was lifted nor a hand moved. The men looked at the Assassin, who regarded them, one by one. Men turned white under that gaze. Some fled from the tables. lest, unknown to themselves, it be they for whom this man wore the mark of the black dagger.
The Assassin turned to the man in the black apron, a fat, grimy man, who wore a soiled tunic of white and gold, stained with sweat and spilled Paga.
"Collar," said the Assassin.
The man took a key from a line of hooks on the wall behind him.
"Seven," he said, throwing the Assassin the key.
The Assassin caught the key and taking the girl by the arm led her to a dark wall, in a low-ceillinged corner of the sloping room. She moved woodenly, as though numb. Her eyes seemed frightened.
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She saw Kuurus go to the tables and sit cross-legged behind one. a table against the wall on her left, that there might be no tables behind him, but only the wall. The men who had been at that table, or near it, silently rose and left the area.
Kuurus had placed his spear against the wall behind him, and he had taken from his left shoulder his shield, his helmet and the sheathed short sword, which blade he had placed at his right hand on the low table.
At a jesture from the proprietor, the grimy man in the tunic of white and gold, one of the serving slaves, with a flash of her ankle bells, hurried to the Assassin and set before him a bowl, which she trembling filled from the flask held over her right forearm. Then, with a furtive glance at the girl chained at the side of the room, the serving slave hurried away.
Kuurus took the Page bowl in both hands and put his head down, looking into it. Then, somberly, he lifted it to his lips and drank.
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Scarcely a quarter of an Ahn has passed and the men who drank in the room had forgotten, as is the way of men, that a dark one sat with them in that room, one who wore the black tunic of the Caste of Assassins, who sliently drank with them. It was enough for them that he who sat with them did not this time wear for them the mark of the black dagger on his forehead, that it was not they whom he sought. Kuurus drank, watching them, his face showing no emotion.
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The men in the tavern, with the exception of Kuurus, laughed
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He with the missing teeth laughed and looked about the crowd, his eyes bright, seeing that they waited with eagerness for his stroke. But his laugh died in his throat as he looked into the eyes of Kuurus, he of the Caste of Assassins.
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"You are a begger?" asked Kuurus.
"Yes, Master," said Hup.
"Was the begging good today?" asked Kuurus.
Hup looked at him in fear. "Yes, Master," he said, "yes!"
"Then you have money," said Kuurus, and stood up behind the table, slinging the sheath of the short sword about his shoulder.
Hup wildly thrust a small, stubby, knobbly hand into his pouch and hurled a coin, a copper tarn disk, to Kuurus, who caught it and placed it in one of the pockets of his belt.
"Do not interfere," snarled the man who held the hook knife.
"There are four of us," said another, putting his hand on his sword.
"I have taken money," said kuurus.
The men in the tavern, and the girls, began to move away from the tables.
"We are Warriors," said another.
Then a coin of gold struck the table before the Assassin, ringing on the wood.
All eyes turned to face a paunchy man, in a robe of blue and yellow silk. "I am Portus," he said. "Do not interfere, Assassin."
Kuurus picked up the coin and fingered it, and then he looked at Portus. "i have already taken money," he said.
Portus Gasped.
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Then the dark shape of the Assassin seemed to move like a swift shadow in the room.
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Kuurus returned to his table, and sat down crossed-legged as before. Once more the short sword lay at his right hand on the table. He lifted his Paga bowl and drank.
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"Welcome, Killer," said the man, addressing the Assassin by what, for that caste, is a title of respect.
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"I am of the opinion," said the man. "That it is a good thing we have those in the black tunic back amongst us."
Kuurus nodded, accepting the judgement.
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"For whom do you wear on your forehead the mark of the black dagger?" queried Portus discreetly.
Kuruus said nothing.
"Perhaps I could tell you where to find him," proposed Portus.
"I will find him," said Kuurus.
"Of course," said Portus. "Of course." The heavy man, sitting cross-legged, opposite the Assassin, began to sweat, fiddled with the damp blue and yellow solk covering his knee, and then with a nervous hand lifted a shaking bowl of Paga to his lips, spilling some down the side of his face. "i meant no harm," he said.
"You are alive," said Kuurus.
"May I ask, Killer," asked Portus, "if you come to make the first killing - or the second?"
"The second," said kuurus.
"Ah! said Portus."
"I hunt," said Kuurus.
"Of course," said Portus.
"I come to avenge," said Kuurus.
Portus smiled. "That is what I meant," he said, "That it is good those in the black tunic are once again amongst us, that justice can be done, order restored, and right upheld."
Kuurus looked at him, not smiling. "There is only gold and steel," said he.
"Of course," hastily agreed portus. "That is very true."
"Why did you come to speak with me?"
"I would hire a sword such as yours," said Portus.
"I hunt," said Kuurus.
"Ar is a vast city," said Portus. "Perhaps it will take you time to find he who you seek."
Kuurus' eyes flickered.
Portus leaned forward. "and meanwhile," he said, "you might earn considerable sums. I have work for such men as you. And much of the time you would be free, to hunt as you wished. Matters might well work out to our mutual advantage."
"Who are you?" asked Kuurus.
"I am that Portus," said he, "who is master of the house of Portus."
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"I gather," said Kuurus, "that you wish to hire my sword, that you may in some degree protect yourself from the men and the plans of the house of which you have spoken."
"It is true," said Portus. "When gold will not do, only steel can make steel."
"You sau that this house of which you speak is the largest and richest, the most powerful, on the Street of Brands?"
"Yes," said Portus.
"What is the name of this house?" asked Kuurus.
"The House of Cernus." said Portus.
"I shall permit my sword to be hired," said Kuurus.
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His drink finished Kuurus rose and went to the darkened corner of the room, where the wall sloped down. he looked into the eyes of the girl in the yellow slave livery, who kelt there. Then he turned the key in the lock of collar seven and released her. Thrusting her to her feet and forcing her to walk before him, he went to the counter, behind which stood the man in the grimy tunic of white and gold. Kuurus threw the key to him.
"Use Twenty-seven," said the man, handing Kuurus a bit of silk, Pleasure Silkm wrapped about a set of slave chains.
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"Ah Kuurus, you well know how to use a wench."
"Be quiet," Kuurus told her, "Slave girl."
"Yes, Master," she said.
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I was not too much afraid of being recognised. I had dyed my hair black. I had not been in Ar in several years. I wore the habiliments of the Caste of Assassins.
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"Aii!" I cired, though the outburst was scarcely in keeping with the sombre black I wore.
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"You are of the Assassins?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, "it is my caste."
He pressed the piece of gold into my hand and turned away, stumbling from me, reaching out with his right hand to guide himself along the wall.
"Wait!" I cried. "You have won this! Take it!" I ran to him.
"No!" he cried, striking out wildly with a hand, trying to force me away. I stepped back. He stood there, panting, not seeing me, his body bent over, angry. "It is black gold," he said. "It is black gold." He then turned away, and began to grope his way from the place of the game.
I stood there in the street and watched him go, in my hand holding the piece of gold which I had meant to be his.
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"PLACE YOUR FIRST SWORD BEFORE ME," I said, "that I may kill him."
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"I have come," I said, "to rent my sword to the House Cernus."
"We have been expecting you," said Cernus.
I revealed no sign of surprise.
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I had spent the night following the game in an inn, had washed away the mark and this morning, early, when I had arisen, had placed it again on my forehead. After a bit of cold bosk, some water and a handful of peas, I had come the House of Cernus.
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"May I ask," inquired Cernus, "for whom you wear on your forehead the mark of the black dagger?"
I would speak of these things, to some extent, with Cernus for it was important, though perilous, that he should understand what purported to be my mission. It was now time that certain things should be revealed, that they might leak into the streets of Ar.
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"I regret to hear it," said Cernus, at last. Then he looked at me. "There will be few in Ar," he said, "who would not wish you well in your dark work."
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We noted that his pouch had not been cut. The killer had wanted only the life.
The older Tarl, taking the knife by the hand guard withdrew it. It was a throwing knife, of a sort used in Ar, much smaller than the southern quiva, and tapered on only one side. It was a knife designed for killing. Mixed with the blood and fluids of the body there was a smear of white at the end of the steel, the softened residue of a glaze of kanda paste, now melted by body heat, which had coated the tip of the blade. On the hilt of the dagger, curling about it, was the legend "I have sought him. I have found him." It was a killing knife.
"The Caste of Assassins?" I had asked.
"Unlikely," had said the Older Tarl, "for Assassins commonly are too proud for poison."
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"But you are welcome in this house," said Cernus. "As you presumably know these are difficult times in Ar, and a good sword is a good investment, and steel in these days is upon occasion more valuable than gold."
I nodded.
"I will upon occasion," said Cernus, "have commissions for you." He looked down on me. "But for the time," he said, "it is valuable for me simply for it to be known that your sword is in this house."
"I await your commands," I said.
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"Incidentally," said me, "Killer."
I turned to face him.
"It is known to me that in the tavern of Spindius, you slew four Warriors of the House of Portus."
I said nothing.
"Four pieces of gold," said Cernus, "double tarns, will be sent to your rooms."
I nodded my head.
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"Also," said Cernus, "it is understood by me that you picked up one of my girls on the street."
I tensed slightly, my hand dropping to the hilt of the short sword.
"What was her number?" Cernus was asking Caprus, who stood near him.
"74673," said the Scribe. I had anticipated that there would be some mention of Vella, for it was unlikely that Cernus would be unaware of my contact with her.
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Elizabeth had her head down to the stone floor. "Please, Master!" she wept. "It is he, the Assassin, who forced me in the streets to accompany him to the tavern of Spindius! Protect me, Master! Please, Master! Protect me, Master!"
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"Very well," said Cernus, "I will punish him by sending to his quarters an untrained slave girl."
"Master?" she asked.
Cernus turned to Caprus. "When she is not in training, 74673 will keep the quarters of the Assassin."
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"How smoothly it has all gone!" she laughed. "And poor Vella, who must keep the quarters of the Assassin! Poor, poor Vella!"
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I decided to go to Ar in the guise of an Assassin, by High Tharlarion, for Assassins are not commonly tarnsmen.
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"He frightens me," she wept. "He is of the black caste."
"Serve him wine," said he, "or you will be stripped and thrown into a pen of male slaves."
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Cernus smiled. "I like you, Killer," said he, "for you do not haggle, but you are silent; you keep your own council and then you strike."
I said nothing.
"I am much the same," said Cernus. He nodded his head.
"You did well to sit high at the table."
"Who would dispute my place?" I asked.
Cernus laughed. "But not so high as I," he said.
"You are master of the house," I said.
"You will see," said Cernus, "that the house of Cernus is indeed generous, and more generous than you have thought to dream. You will come with us this night and for the first time you will understand how great indeed is my house. You will this night understand how wisely you have invested the use of your sword."
"What will you show me?" I asked.
"Serve me well," said Cernus, "and in time I will make you the Ubar of a City."
I looked at him startled.
"Ha!" laughed Cernus, "so even the equanimity of an Assassin can be shaken! Yes, the Ubar of a city, and you may choose the city, any save Ar, on whose throne I, Cernus, will sit."
I said nothing.
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Exotics are normally bred for some deformity which is thought to be appealing. On the other hand, sometimes the matter is much more subtle and sinister. For example it is possible to breed a girl whose saliva will be poisonous; such a woman, placed in the Pleasure Gardens of an enemy, can be more dangerous than the knife of an Assassin.
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"You are a strange one for an Assassin," he said.
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looked at me closely. "Do not be curious, Killer," said he, "for commonly those who look upon the beast do so only in death."
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"Greetings, Flaminius," said Ho-Tu. "May I introduce Kuurus, of the black caste, but of our employ?"
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"Tarl Cabot," said he, "was slain in Ko-ro-ba." Flaminius indicated me. "This is Kuurus, who, for gold seeks his killer."
"He wears black," said Virginia.
"Of course," said Flaminius.
"You're all mad!" said Phyllis.
"He is of the Caste of Assassins," said Flaminius.
Phyllis screamed and held her head in her hands.
"This is Gor," said Virginia. "Gor."
"Why have we been brought here?" asked Phyllis.
"Strong men," said Flaminius, "have always, even in the course of your own planet's history, taken the females of weaker men for their slaves."
"We are not slaves," said Virginia numbly.
"You are the females of weaker men," said Flaminius, "the men of Earth." We are stronger," he said. "We have power. We have ships which can traverse space to Earth. We will conquer Earth. It belongs to us. When we wish, we bring Earthlings to Gor as our slaves, as was done with you. Earth is a slave world. You are natural slaves. It is important for you to understand that you are natural slaves, that you are inferior, that it is
natural and right that you should be the slaves of the men of Gor."
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When I had left the House of Cernus I had removed the livery of the black caste and had washed the sign of the dagger from my forehead. I wore a worn, red tunic, that of a Warrior. It was thus easier for me to move about the city. I would not be likely to be noticed, or feared. Men would more willingly speak to me.
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Later he had helped to free Ar after it had fallen to the horde of Pa-Kur, master of the Assassins, who had wished to become Ubar of the City, inheriting the medallion of office and putting about his shoulders the purple cloak of empire.
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Sura turned to Ho-Tu. "The Tuchuk girl," she said, "keeps quarters with the Assassin. I do not object. Take the others to cells of Red Silk."
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"I see you now wear the red of the Warrior," said he, "rather than the black of the Assassin."
I said nothing.
"I know disguises are useful," said he, "in hunting." He grinned at me. "I liked what you did at the game, when you gave the double tarn to the Player."
"He did not accept it," I said. "To him it was black gold."
"And so it was," said the Tarn Keeper, "so it was."
"It will buy as much as yellow gold," said I.
"True," said the Tarn Keeper, "and that is what must be kept in mind."
I turned to go.
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"Are you familiar with tarns?" asked Mip.
I thought for a moment. Some Assassins are, as a matter of fact, skilled tarnsmen. "Yes," I said, "I am familiar with tarns."
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This was prior to the slaying of the Warrior of Thentis, who resembled me, which had given me independent reason for coming to Ar, and in the guise of an Assassin.
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About the third bar, unable to sleep, I left the side of Elizabeth and drew on my tunic, that of the Assassin.
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"You are up late, Killer," said he.
"I could not sleep," I said.
"I thought those of the black caste slept the soundest of all men," said Cernus.
"It was something I ate," I said.
"Of course," said Cernus. "Was your hunt successful?"
"I have not yet found the man," I said.
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Cernus laughed. "You, Killer," said he, "would not make a Player."
I shrugged.
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Cernus stood up behind the table, ready now to retire. He looked at me and smiled. "By the end of En'Var," said he, "Killer, I will be Ubar of Ar."
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Also, Ho-Sorl gave me a look at about this time. Neither of them, incidentally, had ever seemed much taken aback by the fact that I commonly wore the black of the Assassin.
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I spoke harshly to Sura. "Lead me to your quarters, Slave."
She struggled to her feet, the leash dangling from her collar. I did not pick up the leash and she moved past me, tears in her eyes, leaving the room, the sound of bells marking her movements. But she did not walk as a trained Pleasure Slave. She walked numbly, her head down, a defeated woman. I heard Cernus laugh. "I have heard," jeered Cernus, "that the Killer knows well how to use slaves!"
Sura stopped at that moment, and put her head back, though she did not turn to face him, and then she hurried through the door.
"Killer," I heard.
I turned to face Ho-Tu. His hand was still on the hook knife.
"She is not a common slave," he said.
"Then," said I, "I shall expect from her uncommon pleasures,'' and turned and left.
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"Killer," said Ho-Tu, "forgive me."
"He Wears the black tunic," said Sura, "and I do not know who he is, but he is not of the black caste."
"Let us not speak of such matters," I said, sternly.
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"I do not think Ho-Tu will bother Kuurus, of the black caste," said I; rising to my feet.
Flaminius looked at me, with a certain drunken awe. Then he rose in his green quarters tunic and went to a chest in his room, from which he drew forth a large bottle of paga. He opened it and, to my surprise, poured two cups. He took a good mouthful of the fluid from one of the cups, and bolted it down, exhaling with satisfaction.
"You seem to me, from what I have seen and heard," I said, "a skilled Physician."
He handed me the second cup, though I wore the black tunic.
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"For many years," said Flaminius, "and this was even before 10,110, the year of Pa-Kur and his horde, I and others worked secretly in the Cylinder of Physicians.
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I laughed.
Flaminius looked at me, curiously. "It is seldom," he said, "that those of the black caste laugh."
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"I am sorry," I said.
Flaminius looked at me. He was drunk, and perhaps that is why he was willing to speak to me, only of the black caste. There were tears in his eyes.
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At the end I saw two guards. They immediately sprang up, seeing me. Neither was drunk. Both were apparently perfectly sober, rested and alert.
"Kajuralia," I said to them.
Both men drew their weapons. "Do not pass this point," said they, "Killer."
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A given thought kept going through my mind, for no reason that I was clearly aware of. It seemed unrelated to anything. It was Cernus saying to me, outside the Cell for Special Captures, "You, Killer, would not make a Player." His remark kept burning its way through my brain.
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"You are of the black caste," he whispered. "At last they are done with me."
"Perhaps not," I said.
"Am I to be tortured again?" he asked, piteously.
"I do not know," I said.
"Kill me," he whispered.
"No," I said.
He moaned.
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"Sandros thought he was to be your Assassin," said Cernus. "It was for that purpose he thought himself sent to Ko-ro-ba. Actually he was sent there to die himself by the knife of a killer. His resemblance to a certain Koroban Warrior, perhaps Tarl Cabot, would make it seem clear, in the darkness of the night, that the knife had been intended for that Warrior, and a convenient clue, a patch of green, would lead to Ar, and doubtless then to the House of Cernus.
I could not speak.
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he who had, upon learning that I wore the black of the Assassins, refused, though poor, to accept the piece of gold he had so fairly and marvelously won.
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I heard cries of astonishment from those I passed. "It is Gladius of Cos!" I heard. "It is he!" "I thought he feared to appears" "No, Fool, not Gladius of Cos!" "Assassins lurk!" "Flee, Rider, flee!" "Flee, Gladius of Cos!"
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