Zork (3) by Peony D Beckside.

 Zork

Peony D Beckside

 

In appreciation of, and with thanks to John Norman for creating the wonderful world of Gor, in which this story is set.

Chapter Three: A Travelling Companion.

 

Map by Marcus of Gor

Two puny ones place the meat on the rock mentioned.  The blue coated one returns.  I tell him to cut a piece of the roast tarsk for himself.  He uses a knife even smaller than mine; his portion not reducing the quantity of meat significantly.  I pick the cooked carcase up and bite into it.

“Zork?”

“Yes, puny one?”

“Are you going anywhere specific?”

“I go to Torvaldsland.”

“That’s a very long way.  Almost one third of the way round the planet.  It will take you a long time.”

“I can travel faster than puny ones.  Night-time and day time are the same to me.”

“Is that wise?  We humans when the air gets hot, sweat.  Water comes from our bodies, it cools us. When the air is cold, we add layers of cloth to our bodies to protect us.  You will be crossing several different climatic zones.  You being covered in fur, might find that difficult.  Tell me, Zork, do you moult, hair falling from your body when it’s hot, and growing a thick pelt when it’s cold?  You might find it easier to go slower, acclimatising as you pass through each zone.”

“I will think on this.”

“I have had enough of this place.  It is time for me to move on.  I too am travelling North.  I would be honoured to have you as a travelling companion, as long as you gave me your word not to eat me!”

I laugh again.  Cheeky little beast!  I can see that his comment about acclimatising is sensible.  There might be situations where this puny one could be beneficial.

“Very well.  You may accompany ME.  And yes, I give you my word not to eat you.”

He utters that strange laughter of his.

“Thank you, Zork.  As soon as I’ve finished eating, I shall gather up my belongings and return as soon as possible.  There’s still two or three travelling ahn left today.”

 

This Cadmus returns.  He pulls some kind of light box on wheels.  In the box there is what I take to be a shoulder-pack along with several rolls of paper and cloth bundles.

 “What kind of device is that, Cadmus?”

“The handcart?  A small wagon…”

I understand ‘wagon’.

“...It allows me to easily carry more weight than I could on my shoulders alone.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Put the other tarsk, the salted one on the cart and let us be off.”

I do so, glad that I don’t have to physically carry the tarsk myself.  I wonder if adding this weight will make it difficult for this puny one, this Cadmus to pull the small wagon.  I have no need to be concerned, the ‘cart’ as Cadmus calls, it rolls relatively smoothly over the ground.

“We should start off heading West, Zork.  If the others change their minds and come after us, I’d like to set a false trail.  We will turn North as soon as we are out of sight of the village.”

Strategic thinking from this little Cadmus.  Perhaps he might be of benefit to me, and not just a liability.

As the light begins to dim, we reach a small copse with a stream running through it.  Cadmus quickly finds twigs and larger pieces of wood, getting a fire started.  He cuts a piece of meat off the salted carcass, threads a metal prong through it and settles the meat over the fire to cook.

“Do you want some meat this evening, Zork?”

“No, Cadmus, I have eaten today.  I won’t need to again for a few days.”

Clearly puny ones need to eat more often than we do.

Cadmus takes from his ‘cart’, a large scroll of paper and unrolls it, holding down the corners with stones he picks up from the ground.

“Come and look at this, Zork.”

I look at the markings on the paper, not sure what it is that I’m looking at.

“It’s called a ‘map’, Zork.  A diagrammatic representation of Gor.  It will show what we can expect of the lie of the land, the terrain of the journey.”

He points to a spot almost at the bottom left of this ‘map’.

“We are about here.  If you are going to Torvaldsland, that is here.”

He points to a spot not far from the top left of the scroll.

“We will have to cross almost all known Gor.  It might take a couple of years, perhaps more.”

“I understand.  So be it.  Explain this ‘map’ to me.”

“To the right is the east.  The sun rises in the east.  It sets in the west.”

He indicates the left of the scroll.

“We are way down in the south,”

Pointing again.

“And we need to go all the way to the north, the top.”

“Beyond this line, is the Ocean, sometimes called sea.  A vast, mostly uncharted expanse of deep water.  You understand ‘sea’, Zork?”

“Like a lake?”

“Yes, but much bigger, and the water cannot be drunk, being too salty.”

“These spots of land in the water are called islands.  People live on some of them, but not all.”

“Even if we could find one, travelling by ship may be problematical.”

“Ship?”

“A means of transport that goes across the water.”

“Why a problem?”

“For me, it would simply be a matter of getting, and paying money.  There is a risk of the ship being attacked by pirates or the navies of the maritime powers to the north, but how do I explain you?  The sailors would be fearful and no matter how much money we offer, they are likely to refuse to carry us.”

“We need ‘sailors’?”

“Yes, Zork.  I don’t know how to sail a ship, and certainly not over the distances necessary.  We will have to walk”

Cadmus pauses.

“So we have to go north.  We bypass Kargash and head for the foothills of the Ta Thassa mountains. We don’t want to go north-east to Turia and across the Plains of Turia.  This is the land of the Wagon Peoples, the Tuchuks, Kassars, Kataii and Paravaci.  They are very fierce warriors that move very fast on their Kaiila.  They see anyone that tries to cross their land as an enemy.  They will kill us or enslave me.  You, I think they would kill for certain.  You might kill one or two of them, but there are thousands of them.  You could not kill them all.  No, the safer way is to follow this line of mountains as far as the Equatorial Cartius river.  How we get across the river, well consider when we get there.  Going east and trying to cross the Tahari Desert is probably an even worse option than going via Turia.”

Cadmus takes a swallow from a bottle he takes from his cart.

“This area here is dense jungle.  There are no tracks through it, so we must go round.  We then head north and west avoiding the many cities.  We have to cross the Vosk river, and perhaps too the Thassa Cartius.  We certainly don’t want to get mired in the Vosk delta.  It’s north then again, and slightly west until we get to the Northern Forests.  Travelling through those does have its challenges, but there would be plenty of game, I should imagine.”

“Game?”

“Wild animals to hunt for food.”

“When we emerge at the northern edge of the Northern Forests, we should hopefully be in Torvaldsland.  Hopefully you will find there, what you seek.”

“And what do you seek, Cadmus?”

He laughs.

“For me, the journey will be the joy.  I was so bored down there in that tiny little village.  The journey will be the adventure I seek.”

I laugh at that.

Note by Tracker. I tried very hard to create an image of Zork, Cadmus and the cart all together, but the image gods would not provide.