Gorean Holidays, Feasts, Events, Ceremonies

The Day of Generosity and Petitions

"Gnieus Lelius seems a generous, noble fellow," I said.
"He is a patron of the arts," said the fellow. "He has founded parks and museums. He has won the support of the elite in this fashion. I myself favor him for he has remitted certain classes of debts. This has considerably eased my financial burdens. The lower castes are fond of him for he frequently, at his own expense, distributes free bread and paga, and sponsors games and races. He has also declared new holidays. He has made life better and easier in Ar. He is much supported by the people.
"You are certain that he is concerned for the welfare of Ar?" I asked.
"Of course," he said.
"Is he difficult to see?" I asked.
"One does not simply walk up to the Central Cylinder and knock on the door," he said.
"I suppose not," I said.
"But Gnieus Lelius makes a point of being available to the people," he said. "That is one reason he is so much loved."
"Commoners, then, can look upon the regent?" I asked, "other than from afar, as in state processions or at official games?"
"Of course," said the man.
I was pleased to hear that. I had urgent letters for Gnieus Lelius and Seremides. I must somehow manage to deliver them. I had feared it might be difficult. I did not wish to deliver these missives into the hands of a subordinate. Who could one trust? Too, I surely had no wish to attempt to cut my way through the corridors of the Central Cylinder to effect a private audience with these fellows.
"Can they actually speak with him?" I asked.
"Surely," he said.
"When, next, do you think he might be holding public audiences?" I asked.
"Two days from now," said the fellow.
"Is it a court day?" I asked.
"Better than that," he said. "It is one of the new holidays, the day of Generosity and Petitions."
"Excellent," I said.
"The audiences are held near the Central Cylinder, on the Avenue of the Central Cylinder," he said.
"Thank you," I said.
"Did you wish to speak to him about something?" asked the man.
"I thought it would be nice," I said, "at least to look upon him."
"He is a charming fellow," said the man.
"I am sure of it," I said.
"Many minor petitions are granted," he said, "and some of the major ones. To be sure, it depends wholly, at least in the major cases, upon the justice of the petition."
"I understand," I said.
"Those wishing to present petitions must take a place on the rope," he said.
"What is that?" I asked.
"Obviously the regent cannot give an audience to everyone," he said. "Those who are granted audiences wear the Gnieus Lelius Generosity Ribbon which encircles them and is tied about the rope, actually a velvet cable, leading to the dais.
This helps to keep the line straight and, as the audiences are held out of doors, controls the number of petitioners."
"I understand," I said. "How does one obtain a position on the rope?" I asked.
"Sometimes it is a nasty business," said the man.
"Good," said Hurtha, approvingly.
"I suppose it is a good idea to come early?" I said.
"Some people are there from the fourteenth Ahn the day before," he said.
"I see," I said. "Thank you, Citizen."  MERCENARIES OF GOR-, (21) Pages 265-267

"Excuse me," I said.
"Yes?" he said.
"Come closer," I said.
"Yes?" he asked, coming over.
"Is it true," I asked, "that only citizens of Ar are permitted to approach the regent on this day?"
"You certainly need not fear," he said, "for though you came in from Torcadino, clearly you are of Ar."
"But what if I were not?" I asked.
"Are you not?" he asked, interested.
I considered judicious replies, rapidly.
"To be sure," he said, "your accent, now that I think of it, does not ring quite true. Perhaps you have been away from the city for a long time." Those of Ar commonly have a gentle, liquid accent. I think it is one of the loveliest of the Gorean accents.
"What if perchance I were not of Ar?" I asked. I looked about myself, noting the distance to the nearest guardsmen. I considered how long it might take to remove the ribbon and, hastily, hopefully without combat, disappear down a side street.
"Your question is purely academic, of course," he said.
I reached for the ribbon.
"No," he laughed, putting out his hand. "Stay in your place. I know you are not of Ar, or do not think you are of Ar, for that seems clear from your speech. I am just teasing you." He might have found his humor a bit less delightful had he seen Hurtha behind him with his ax. Hurtha lowered the ax. "Ones who are not citizens of Ar may approach the regent on this day as well as citizens, if they can get a place on the rope. It is all part of the meaning of the day, of the generosity and benevolence of Ar, and such."
"I was told by a fellow earlier that only citizens might be on the rope," I said.
"No," smiled the fellow. "He was just trying to get your place."
"Is that true?" I asked the fellow behind me.
"I hope so," he said. "I am from Venna,"
"It is true," said a fellow behind him.
"Move ahead," said the Taurentian to Hurtha. "Move away from the rope."
The crowd must now stay to the sides, away from the rope.
A fellow moved in behind me, with a ribbon.
"Where did you come from?" asked the man from Venna. "The ribbons were gone."
"They are seldom really gone, at least until late," said the fellow.
"What are things like at the back of the line?" asked a man.
"Bloody," said the fellow. "But the guardsmen are dispersing people now,"
"How did you get a ribbon?" I asked. I knew how I had gotten mine. Hurtha had given it to me. He had received it as a donation, of sorts, from a fellow who was not at the time in a condition to use it. I wondered if the regent was aware of the mayhem that attended the acquisition of the ribbons. To be sure, most folks who had come early had probably received them in a civilized and orderly fashion. I had had difficulty in getting Hurtha up this morning. It was our third day in Ar. Yesterday we had spent a great deal of time walking about the city. It is pleasant to see the slave girls. Feiqa, too, who was heeling us, I gathered, from the men turning about, the occasional intakes of breath, the various comments and observations, and sometimes the literal sex calls, some of the bold, obtrusive, hooting sort, done as a compliment and joke, with which masters sometimes summon their girls running to hem, attracted more than her share of appreciative appraisals. This was understandable. She was superb slave meat. I did not know where Boabissia was now. She was probably somewhere in the city. She had wanted to see more of it. Feiqa had probably been left in the insula.
"The guardsmen hold out some," he said. "I paid a silver tarsk for this one."
"I see," I said.
"Move along," said a Taurentian.
"Hail, Gnieus Lelius!" called a man. One could now see the chair on the dais. He was not wearing the purple of the Ubar, but his shoulders were covered with a brown cloak, rather of the sort worn by Administrators in certain cities, civilian statesmen, servants of the people, so to speak. I wondered if the regent knew about the business of selling the ribbons. Some, too, I supposed, would be sold by citizens who had received them earlier in the legal distributions.
"Move forward," said a Taurentian.
I clutched the letters from Dietrich of Tarnburg within my tunic. My hand was sweaty.
A fellow two places ahead of me, for some petition or other, received ten pieces of gold. That is a considerable sum. There were cries of pleasure and wonder from the crowd. "Hail, Gnieus Lelius!" I heard. "Hail Gnieus Lelius!" Most of the folks, as far as I could tell, however, received only a kind word from the regent, or an earnest assurance that their petitions would be examined with care. Several individuals, however, to be fair, did receive handfuls of coins, mostly copper, from the regent, who, smiling, would dip his hand into heaping coin bowls near him, and then spill coins into the outstretched hands of the grateful recipients. "Hail, Gnieus Lelius!" I heard. Taurentians were about the regent, and, too, some scribes. Notes, it seemed, and names, were being taken. Doubtless a record of the claims, grievances, petitions, and such, was being kept. It seemed there was not an excessive amount of guards. So loved, it seemed, was the regent.
"Yes, Citizen?" said the regent. I looked up. He was a regal looking fellow, tall and gaunt. He seemed fair, and kindly. I thought he would probably be a conscientious and dedicated public servant, perhaps even a gifted statesman. Certainly he had been high councilor in Ar. Indeed, he was now regent.
"Citizen?" he asked. His voice was not sharp. It was kindly. He was not impatient. I supposed it was not unusual for a common citizen suddenly finding himself in the presence of one so great, to find words failing him.
I reached inside my tunic and drew forth the letters.
"He has a petition, or petitions," said one of the scribes. "Give them to me, fellow."
I drew back the letters, not handing them to the scribe.
"These papers," I said, "excellency, are for you. I will deliver them only to you. I am not a citizen. I have come a long way."
I turned the letters in my hand. On them, then, could be seen the seal of the silver tarn. I then turned them again in such a way that the seals could not be seen. Two or three of the scribes reacted. I saw that they recognized the seal. Another scribe moved toward me. He seemed dangerous, not like a scribe. I suspected, then, that some of the scribes about were perhaps not truly scribes, but guards.
"Thank you," said the regent, kindly. He took the letters, keeping the seals down.
"Who are you?" he asked. "And where do you lodge?'
His voice was no different than when he had spoken to others. Yet I was sure he had seen the seals.
"I am Tarl," I said, "of the city of Port Kar, and I am now lodging in the insula of Achiates, in the Alley of the Slave Brothels of Ludmilla." This information was taken down.
"Write down," said the regent to the scribe nearest him, "that we have received petitions from Tarl of Port Kar, who is lodging in the house of Achiates, which we will take under careful consideration." This was done.
"I am grateful," I said, "that you will be pleased to ponder carefully the contents of these petitions. I assure you that I am quite earnest in this matter, and I attest with conviction to the veracity of what I take to be their contents."
"I understand," he said.
I bowed to him. "Excellency," I said. He inclined his head, graciously responding to my salute. I removed the ribbon from my body. My commission had been accomplished. I had delivered the letters. Dietrich of Tarnburg, and Ar, had been served. More I could not do.
The regent motioned that I should approach more closely.
"Thank you," he said. "I have waited for such word for a long time."
"It is nothing," I said.
"Wait," said he.
I turned about. He poured coins into my hands, copper tarsks.
"My thanks, Excellency," I said, gratefully, as though I might have been another petitioner.
"Hail, Gnieus Lelius! Hail, Gnieus Lelius!" I heard, the crowd acclaiming yet again the regent's generosity.
I then turned about, and took my leave.  MERCENARIES OF GOR-, (21) Pages 286-290
 

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.
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