Civitatis Ar, Plus!

Avenues / Streets / Districts

Emerald Street

Then, from some two hundred yards away, I heard the shrill, excited squeal of one of the animals. I looked wildly south, down the Boulevard of Teiban. The sleen, and those with them, had come west on Venaticus. As Clive borders the Teiban Market on the north, so Venaticus borders it on the south. To my horror, I saw the sleen, and the crowd, turning right, north on Teiban. They were proceeding toward me. I did not understand this. Why had they not come down Clive? Then, suddenly, sick, I remembered that I had, two days ago, taken Venaticus west to Teiban. It must be that trail, two days old, that they were following. I swiftly fled west, continuing on Clive. In a few minutes I had come to Clive and Hermadius. It was on Hermadius, less than an Ahn ago, that I had first seen the sleen. I continued west on Clive, and turned left, south, on Emerald. This street, like Hermadius, leads to the Plaza of Tarns. But I was not seeking the Plaza of Tarns and the agency. I turned right, off Emerald, when I came to Tarn-Gate Street. This is the street which leads directly between Ar's west gate, called the Tarn Gate, and the Plaza of Tarns.
When I came to the west gate I knelt before a citizen. "Master," I said, "may I accompany you through the gate?"
"No," he said.
I rose to my feet, and looked behind me.
Then I approached the gate more closely. The security here seemed unusually strict today. I did not understand this. Wagons were being inspected even to the point of prying up the lids of boxes and slitting open sacks. I saw a slave girl who was hooded stopped and unhooded, and examined carefully. Then she was rehooded and, on her leash, in the company of a master, allowed to proceed.
I walked boldly, nonchalantly, toward the gate.
Then I was stopped, crossed spears before me. "Forgive me, Master," I said, bowing my head, and quickly moving back, then turning away.
A few yards from the gate I stopped and turned again, and looked at it. Tears sprang into my eyes.
I then fled north for a few blocks on the Wall Road, and then turned right, east, to make my way back to Emerald. I saw no sign of the sleen or the crowd on Emerald. In this fashion I had doubled back on my trail. I hoped this might confuse the sleen. I continued to walk north on Emerald. The streets, I noticed, everywhere, had apparently not been swept down and washed. That injunction against their cleaning had apparently not been confined to a given district. It seemed to have been citywide in its scope.  KAJIRA OF GOR-, (19) Pages 314-316

"Hold slave!" called a voice. "Do not look back! To the wall! Not so close! Back further! Now lean forward, putting the palms of your hands against the wall. Spread your feet, widely. More widely!"
Swiftly, frightented, I complied. Then I felt his foot kick my feet yet farther apart.
I was helpless, leaning against the wall, my feet, very widely, terribly uncomfortably, apart. My own weight held my hands against the wall. If I were to remove a hand from the wall I would fall against it; from such a position, so awkward and helpless, it is difficult to regain one's balance quickly and smoothly. In such a position one is much at the mercy of the one behind them.
"Oh!" I said.
He swiftly determined that I was unarmed. To be sure, this is not a difficult determination to make when one is in a slave tunic.
"Oh!" I cried.
"You are not wearing the iron belt," he said.
"No, Master," I said.
"You may kneel," he said.
I struggled to the wall, and then turned and knelt before him. He was a guardsman.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Tiffany," I said, "of Feast Slaves, of the Enterprises of Aemilianus, the Plaza of Tarns."
I dared not lie to him. He could check my collar. I carried my identification about with me. It was locked on my neck.
He crouched down before me and took my wrists in his right hand, holding them together. He then, with his left hand, pulled my head back. He checked the collar. I had not thought he would have done so. I was now especially pleased I had not tried to lie to him. Had I done so I suspected I would immediately, on such suspicious grounds, after a summary beating, have been braceleted and leashed.
He rose to his feet.
"You are a long way from the Plaza of Tarns," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
"What are you doing here, alone?" he asked, not unkindly.
"Walking, Master," I said.
"You are not in the iron belt," he said.
"No, Master," I said.
"You are far north on Emerald," he said. "You are not now on Hermadius or the avenue of the Central Cylinder."
"No, Master," I said.
"I advise you to stay away from the lesser-known streets in this area," he said. "I would stay on Emerald or return south. These are not strolling areas for pretty slave girls, particularly for those not in the belt."
"Yes, Master," I said. "Thank you, Master."
He then turned about and left me. I rose to my feet. He had been very kind to me, considering that I was a slave. Tomorrow, of course, if certain pick-up orders were issued, he would doubtless recall that a slave named Tiffany, with short blond hair and blue eyes, had been encountered in this area.  KAJIRA OF GOR-, (19) Pages 317-318

Frightened by the guardsman's warning, and not wishing to retrace my steps on Emerald I turned to my left, to take a side street to the Wall Road, which I assumed would be safe. Surely the Wall Road, which followed the interior circuit of Ar's walls, was only some four or five blocks west. But I could not reach it directly. I took one street into another, and then another, and the streets seemed to be becoming narrower and more dingy. It was hot in the afternoon now and there were few people abroad on them. In a few Ehn I became confused, and suddenly came to realize that I was lost. I did not know the streets by name in this area and even had I been able to read the signs, there were none written here on the corners of the buildings. I was no longer fully certain even, with the shadows, the narrowness of the streets, their many turnings, of my general orientation. I could not even. because of the twistings of the streets, walk in a given straight direction. I saw a youth lounging against a wall. I put my head up and walked past him.
After a few yards I looked back. He was watching me, but he had not moved. I hurried on. I made the only turn I could, right; at the end of the street.
In a few moments, I rejoiced. I could see the wall, beyond the end of the street. This street, too, was wider than the others. It was bright and hot. It seemed deserted. Happily I hurried forward.  KAJIRA OF GOR-, (19) Page 319

The other girls were in no doubt as to the route home. They did not even proceed to the Wall Road. They retreated on the street a bit, and then went south and east for a few streets, and then, suddenly, turning right, we found ourselves on Emerald. This was the route, I took it, which had been followed by Hassan, the sleen, and the others. Moving south on Emerald we came, after about an Ahn, to the Plaza of Tarns. In a few moments, then, we had re-entered the agency.
"You are just in time," said the doorkeeper to us.
We lined up, single-file, at his counter. There was a cup and a pitcher of Bazi tea on the counter. Bazi tea is a common beverage on Gor. Many Goreans are fond of it. I was last in line. He took our disks from the out-board and hung them, one by one, in their places, on the in-board.  KAJIRA OF GOR-, (19) Page 332

"Are you hungry?" Marcus asked Phoebe.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Perhaps then," he said, "you will not be fed today."
"I am not permitted to lie to my master," she said.
"A slave, like any other animal," I said, "may grow hungry."
"True," said Marcus.
He then crouched down and removed the bracelets from the ring and collar.
"I, too, am hungry," I said.
"Very well," he said.
"There are food shops on Emerald Street," I said.
"Is it far?" he asked.
"No," I said.
Then, in a moment we left, retracing our steps, moving north on the Avenue of the Central Cylinder, past shops, fountains, columns and such, until we would make our left turn, toward Emerald Street, Phoebe heeling him, her hands now fastened behind her in the bracelets.  MAGICIANS OF GOR-, (25) Pages 81-82
 

Kudos to you, Mr. Norman for writing the Gorean series!
A rich, yet utterly simple saga; a world, a time, a people;
those of the Counter-Earth .. the planet .. Gor.
Thank you!

The material presented herein was researched and compiled by me, naia{Saul}.
The material referenced comes from John Norman's Gor Series, The Counter-Earth Saga.
This is a work in process.
Please, do not take, copy, duplicate, or use this work as your own.
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