SCRIBES

Tarnsman of Gor 

To my delight, even Torm, of the Castes of Scribes, appeared at the tables. I was honored that the little scribe had separated himself from his beloved scrolls long enough to share my happiness, only that of a warrior. He was wearing a new robe and sandals, perhaps for the first time in years. He clasped my hands, and , to my wonder, the little scribe was crying. And then, in his joy, he turned to Talena and in gracious salute lifted the symbolic cup of Ka-la-na wine to her beauty. Page 217

Outlaw of Gor

I shall deliver this manuscript to some member f the Caste of Scribes whom I shall find at the Fair of En'Kara at the base of the Sardar. From that point whether or not it survives will depend like so many other things in this barbaric world I have come to love---on the inscrutable will of the Priest-Kings. Page 24

Priest-Kings of Gor

I would stop briefly at the fair, for I must purchase food for the journey into the Sardar and I must entrust a leather-bound package to some member of the Scribes, a package which contained an account of what had occurred at the City of Thana in the past months, a short history of events which I thought should be recorded. Page 8

My small friend, Torm of Ko-ro-ba, of the Caste of Scribes, had been to the fairs four times in his life. He informed me that in this time he had refuted seven hundred and eight scribes from fifty-seven cities, but I will not vouch for the accuracy of this report, as I sometimes suspect that Torm, like most members of his caste, and mine, tends to be a bit too sanguine in recounting his numerous victories. Moreover I have never been too clear as to the grounds on which the disputes of scribes are to be adjudicated, and it is not too infrequently that both disputants leave the field each fully convinced that he has the best of the contest. In differences among member of my own caste, that of the Warriors, it is easier to tell who has carried the day, for the defeated one often lies wounded or slain at the victor's feet. In the contests of scribes, on the other hand, the blood that is spilled is invisible and the valiant foemen retire in good order, reviling their enemies and recouping their forces for the next day's campaign. I do not hold this against the contests of scribes; rather I commend it to the members of my own caste. Page 9,10

Gorean, I might note, is somewhat similar, and though I speak Gorean fluently, I find it very difficult to write, largely because of the even- numbered lines which, from my point of view, must be written backwards. Torm, my friend of the Caste of Scribes, never forgave me to this day, if he lives, he undoubtedly considers me partly illiterate. As he said, I would never make a Scribe, "It is simple," he said. “You just write it forward but in the other direction. Page 101

I swept him off his feet and spun him around and the robes flew from his head and Torm of the Caste of scribes cried aloud in joy and that sandy hair whoofed in the wind and tears ran sideways down his face and he never lost hold of the scroll although he nearly batted the Older Tarl with it in one of his orbits and he began to sneeze and I gently put him down. Page 302

"Of course," said Torm, "after all a Priest-King is only a Priest-King." He rubbed his nose meditatively. "Of course," he admitted, "that is quite a bit to be." He looked at the Older Tarl. You must not tell other members of the Caste of Scribes," he cautioned.

I smiled to myself. How clearly Torm wished to keep caste lines and virtues demarcated.

"I will tell everyone," said the Older Tarl kindly, "that you are the bravest of the Caste of Scribes. page 303

"I know," I said, and gave his sandy-haired head a rough shake. He was, after all, a Scribe, and had the properties of his caste to observe. Page 304

Assassin of Gor 

There were three who stood near the pyre; one wore the brown robes of the Administrator of ta City, the humblest robes in the city, and was hooded; another wore the blue of the Caste of Scribes, a small man, almost tiny, bent now with pain and grief; the last was a very large man, broad of back and shoulder, bearded and with long blond hair, a Warrior; yet even the Warrior seemed in that moment shaken. Page 3

My return to the city was affecting, for here it was that my sword had been pledged to a Gorean Home Stone; here it was that I had trained in arms and learned Gorean; it was here that I had met my father, after long years of separation; it was here that I had made dear friends, the Older Tarl, Master of Arms, and small, quick-tempered Torm, he of the Caste of Scribes; and it was from this place that I had, many years before, in tarnflight begun the work that would shatter the Empire of Ar and cost Marlenus of Ar, Ubar of Ubars, his throne; and, too, it was to this place, I could not forget, that I had once brought on tarnback, not as a vanquished slave but as a proud, and beautiful, and free, joyous woman, Talena, daughter of that same Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars, had brought her to this place in love that we might here together drink, one with the other, the wine of the Free Companionship. Page 73

I observed the two men, collared slaves, squaring off against one another in the sand. Both were stripped to the waist. The hair of both was bound back with a band of cloth. Each carried, sheathed, a hook knife. The edges of the sheath were coated with a bluish pigment.

"These men are the champions among male slaves at hook knife," said Cernus. He scarcely glanced up from the game board at which he sat across from Caprus, of the Caste of Scribes, Chief Accountant of the House. Page 86

The third lot was a High Caste girl of Cos who stood before us clad in the complete robes of Concealment, which, piece by piece, were removed from her. She was beautiful, and had been free; she was not trained; she was of the Scribes, and had been picked up by pirates from Port Karl She did nothing to move the buyers but stood, head down, numb on the block until she was completely revealed. Her movements were wooden. The crowd was not pleased. There was only a two gold piece bid. Then taking the whip from the whip slave the auctioneer stepped to the disconsolate girl; suddenly, without warning, he administered to her the Slaver's caress, the whip caress, and her response was utterly, and uncontrollably, wild,
helpless. She regarded him with horror. The crowd howled with delight. Suddenly she threw herself, screaming hysterically, on the auctioneer, but he cuffed her to one side and she fell to her knees weeping. She was sold for twenty-five gold pieces. Page 294, 295

The door burst open and five men entered, Cernus, wild-eyed, suddenly haggard, and behind him Philemon, of the Caste of Scribes, the man who had commanded the fifty tarnsmen who had ridden against me in the Stadium of Tarns, and two Taurentian guardsmen. 

Philemon, of the Caste of Scribes, his eyes wide with fear, threw a look after the guards, and then he, too, turned and fled. Page 380

Captive of Gor 

Inge then knelt before Targo. "I am of the scribes," she said, "of high caste. Do not permit this to be done to me!"

"Your ears will be pierced," said Targo.

She wept, and was dragged back to her place in line. Page 158

Explorers of Gor 

“I must commend you,” said Shaba. “You have powers of observation worthy of a scribe-or of a warrior.”
He turned the chain and slipped a ring from it, handing it to me.
Geographers and cartographers, of course, are members of the Scribes. Page 213

Dancer of Gor

“I am a scribe, and a man of science and letters,” said Shaba. “Surely you can understand the importance of the ring to me.”
“It can bring wealth and power,” I said.
“Such things are not of interest to me,” said
Shaba. The tribal stitching of tattoo marks on his dark face wrinkled with a smile. “But I do not expect you to believe that,” he said.
“I do not,” I said.
“How hard it is for two who do not share caste to understand one another,” he said.
“Perhaps,” I said. Page 431

“Your man was courageous to come and fetch us,” I said.
“He is Ngumi,” said
Shaba. “He is courageous, indeed. We did not know if he would get through.”
“I did not know a scribe could be so courageous.” I said.
“There are brave men in all castes,” said
Shaba. page 433

“Do not think too poorly of me, Tarl,” said Shaba. “This was to me the opportunity of a lifetime. If I have erred, I have erred in the cause of my caste and in that, more generally, of humankind.” He regarded me, a little sadly. “What do you think Priest-Kings would do with the ring?” he asked. “It would not be important to them. But to me, to men, it is momentous. Indeed, I doubt that Priest-Kings would even wish to permit the use of the ring to men. It seems possible to me they would regard its use as contravening their structures on human technology.” page 434

“I am grateful,” had said Ramani of Anango, who had once been the teacher of Shaba. I had delivered to him, and to two others of his caste, the maps and notebooks of Shaba. Ramani and his fellows had wept. I had then left them, returning to my lodgings. Copies would be made of the maps and notebooks. They would then be distributed by caste brothers throughout the cities of civilized Gor. The first copies that were made by anyone had already, however, been made, by the scribes of Bila Huruma in Ushindi. Ramani need not know this. Page 454