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The Brotherhood of men on Gor
Topic Started: Dec 29 2011, 11:21 AM (157 Views)
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The brotherhood of men on Gor


What it is to be Sword brothers and the effects.

Brotherhood among men who have Shared salt

Blood brothers
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Sword Brothers

Among the caste of warriors, one who has shed your blood, or whose blood you have shed, becomes a sword brother
Do not harm him," said Kazrak. "He is my sword brother, Tarl of Bristol." Kazrak's remark was in accord with the strange warrior codes of Gor, codes which were as natural to him as the air he breathed, and codes which I, in the Chamber of the Council of Ko-ro-ba, had sworn to uphold. One who has shed your blood, or whose blood you have shed, becomes your sword brother, unless you formally repudiate the blood on your weapons. It is a part of the kinship of Gorean warriors regardless of what city it is to which they owe their allegiance. It is a matter of caste, an expression of respect for those who share their station and profession, having nothing to do with cities or Home Stones.
-Tarnsman page 119

Kazrak agrees to give the remainder of his wages to Tarl, and have Tarl take his place in the service of a merchant, because Tarl has done Kazrak honor and is his sword brother
'Then I cannot pay the debt I owe you,' I said.
'I am a merchant,' said Mintar, 'and it is in my code to see that I am paid.'
I set myself to sell my life dearly. Oddly enough, my only fear was what would happen to the girl.
'Kazrak of Port Kar,' said Mintar, 'do you agree to surrender the balance of your hiring price to Tarl of Bristol if he takes your place in my service?'
'Yes,' responded Kazrak. 'He has done me honour and is my sword brother.'
-Tarnsman

Tarl argued with Kazrak to keep half the wages, on the grounds that they are sword brothers
Kazrak, as he had promised, turned over the balance of his hiring price to me - a very respectable eighty tarn discs. I argued with him to accept forty, on the ground that he was a sword brother, and at last convinced him to accept half of his own wages back.
-Tarsnman

It is natural and expected that one will enlist the aid of a sword brother when needed
It is natural and understood by others that the sword brother will go

Mintar looked up, and he, too, seemed pleased. 'You are the only man who has ever escaped the tarn death,' he said, something of wonder in his voice. 'Perhaps it is true, as they say, that you are the warrior brought every thousand years to Gor - brought by the Priest-Kings to change a world.'
'How did you know I would come to the camp?' I asked.
'Because of the girl,' said Mintar. 'And it was logical, was it not, to expect you to enlist the aid of your Kazrak, your sword brother?'
'Yes,' I said.
Mintar reached into the pouch at his waist and drew forth a golden tarn disc, of double weight. He threw it to Kazrak.
Kazrak caught it.
'I understand you are leaving my service,' said Mintar.
'I must,' said Kazrak.
'Of course,' said Mintar.
-Tarnsman

Fighter in the stadium described as cruel and scornful to swordsmen, disabling their sword arms so they might never raise steel again, but offering the courtesy of a sword brother to common foes fighing for their freedom
Equaling and perhaps exceeding the fame of Gladius of Cos was that of the swordsman Murmillius, of the cruel games observed in the Stadium of Blades. Since the beginning of En'Kara he had fought more than one hundred and twenty times, and one hundred and twenty foes had fallen before him, which, following his unusual custom, he had never slain, regardless of the will of the crowd. Some of the best swordsmen of Ar, even Warriors of High Caste, eager to be the one to best the mysterious Murmillius, had dared to enter the arena against him, but each of these bold gentlemen he seemed to treat with more scorn than his common foes, playing with them and then, it seemed when he wished, disabling their sword arm, so cruelly that perhaps they might never again be able to lift the steel. Condemned criminals and men of low caste, fighting for gold or freedom in the arena, he treated with the harsh courtesies obtaining among sword brothers.
-Assassin

Enemy has high respect when honored as a sword brother
Those of Tyros, upon discovering they were unknowingly using poisoned steel upon enemies who treated them as sword brothers, demand the antidote.

"We of Tyros are warriors and we do not deal in poisons. Upon my return to Tyros, Sullius inquired if our foes had been wounded, and I informed him that indeed we had struck you, drawing blood. His laughter, as if demented, he turning away, alarmed me. I forced the truth from him. I was in agony. It was to you that my men and myself, those who survived, owed their lives. Marlenus would have carried us to Ar for mutilation and public impalement. You were magnanimous, honoring us as warriors and sword brothers. I demanded an antidote.
-Marauders
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Sharing Salt

Men of regions that are traditional enemies (here Torvaldsland and Port Kar), having respect for one another, agree to be friends and share salt
"Your city," he asked, "what is it?"
"You may think of me," I had said, "as one of Port Kar."
"Very well," said he, "but I think we shall not make a great deal of that, for the men of Port Kar are not overly popular in the north."
"The men of Torvaldsland," I assured him, "are not overly popular in the south."
"The men of Port Kar, however," said the Forkbeard, "are respected in the north."
"The men of Torvaldsland," I told him, "are similarly respected in the south."
Gorean enemies, if skilled, often hold one another in high regard.
"You play Kaissa well," had said Ivar Forkbeard. "Let us be friends."
"You, too, are quite skilled," I told him. Indeed, he had much bested me. I still had not fathomed the devious variations of the Jarl’s Ax’s gambit as played in the north. I expected, however, to solve it.
We had shaken hands over the board.
"Friend," he had said. "Friend," I had said.
We had then tasted salt, each from the back of the wrist of the other.
-Marauders

Tahari warrior gains respect for Tarls skills, shares salt with him
The Warrior, who had been paid to teach Tarl, returns the fee to him then, on the grounds that they "have shared salt"

For ten days had we trained, for ten Gorean hours a day. Of the past forty passages eight had been divided, no blood adjudged drawn. In thirty-two I had been adjudged victorious, nineteen times to the death cut.
He pulled his sand veil, yellow, from his dark face, down about his throat. He thrust his burnoose back further over his shoulders. He was Harif, said to be the finest blade in Tor.
"Bring salt," he said to the judge.
The judge gestured to a boy, who brought him a small dish of salt.
The warrior slipped from his saddle, and, on foot, approached me.
I remained mounted.
"Cut the leather from the jaws of your kaiila," said he. Then he gestured to the boy, that the boy should remove the claw sheaths of the beast. He did so, carefully, the beast moving, nervous, shifting in the sand.
I discarded the exercise sheath, and, with the bared blade, parted the leather that had bound the jaws of the kaiila. The leather sprang from the blade. Silk, dropped upon the scimitar of the Tahari, divided, falls free, floating, to the floor. The beast reared, its claws raking the air, and threw back its head, biting at the sun.
I lifted the curved blade of the scimitar. It flashed. I sheathed it, and slipped from the saddle, giving the rein of the mount to the boy.
I faced the warrior.
"Ride free," he said.
"I will, "I said.
"I can teach you nothing more," he said.
I was silent.
"Let there be salt between us," he said.
"Let there be salt between us," I said.
He placed salt from the small dish on the back of his right wrist. He looked at me. His eyes were narrow. "I trust," said he, "you have not made jest of me."
"No," I said.
"In your hand," he said, "steel is alive, like a bird."
The judge nodded assent. The boy's eyes shone. He stood back.
"I have never seen this, to this extent, in another man." He looked at me. "Who are you?" he asked.
I placed salt on the back of my right wrist. "One who shares salt with you," I said.
"It is enough," he said.
I touched my tongue to the salt in the sweat of his right wrist, and he touched his tongue to the salt on my right wrist. "We have shared salt," he said.
He then placed in my hand the golden tarn disk, of Ar, with which I had purchased my instruction.
"It is yours," I said.
"How can that be?" he asked.
"I do not understand," I said.
He smiled. "We have shared salt," he said.
-Tribesmen

One who has "not even shared salt" is not expected to follow a fellow into danger
"Get your kaiila, escape!" said Hassan. The roof was hot; the inn, below, was burning; to our right, through the roof, flames licked upwards.
"Are you not coming?" I asked.
"Presently," he said. "I am curious to see one of these Kavars."
"I am coming with you," I said.
"Save yourself," said he.
"I am coming with you," I said.
"We have not even shared salt," he said.
"I shall accompany you," I said.
He looked at me, for a long time. Then he thrust back the sleeve of his right hand. I pressed my lips to the back of his right wrist, tasting there, in the sweat, the salt. I extended to him the back of my right wrist, and he put his lips and tongue to it.
"Do you understand this?" he asked.
"I think so," I said.
"Follow me," said he. "We have work to do, my brother."
-Tribesmen

Although one man thinks the goal of another is pointless and hopeless, when reminded that they "have shared salt" he agrees to help
"You cannot save him," said Hassan. The beams beneath the body of the kennel master were drenched with blood. My forehead was drenched with sweat. I saw the wounds in the shifting torchlight above and behind me. There was salt on my hands, blood. I pressed together, as I could, the serrated flesh.
"I did not know there could be so much blood in a man," said one of the men behind me.
"Bring me what I asked for," I said.
The lance shaft broken, was found floating near the raft. The lacings which had reinforced the head were removed. The dagger was thrust in the wood beside me.
"Help me," said I, "Hassan."
"Be merciful," said Hassan. "Kill him."
"Help me." I said.
"There is no hope," said he.
"We have shared salt," I said.
"I will help you," said Hassan.
-Tribesmen

One who has shared salt is a brother
Then the two men stepped back from one another, "You fight well," said Ibn Saran. He stood unsteadily. "I could always beat you," he said "
"That was years ago, said Hassan.
"Yes," said Ibn Saran, "that was years ago." Ibn Saran lifted his scimitar to me in salute.
"One gains a victory," I said. "One loses, an enemy."
Ibn Saran inclined his head to me, in Taharic courtesy. Then his face went white, and he turned, and staggered to the parapet of the tower. He fell to the desert below.
Hassan sheathed his sword. "I had two brothers," he said. "One fought for Priest-Kings. He died in the desert. The other fought for Kurii. He died on the tower of Tarna's kasbah."
"And you?" I asked.
"I thought to remain neutral," he said. "I discovered I could not do so."
"There is no neutrality," I said.
"No," be said. Then he looked at me. "Once," he said, "I had two brothers." He clasped me about the shoulders. There were tears in his eyes. "Now," he said, "now I have only one.
We had shared salt at Red Rock, on a burning roof.
"My brother," I said.
"My brother," he said.
-Tribesmen

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Blood Brothers

Cuwignaka’s knife moved on his own forearm, and then on mine, and then on Hci’s.
“You cannot be a member of the Sleen Soldiers of the All Comrades,” had said Hci, “for you are not Kaiila, and you do not know our dances and mysteries, the contents of our medicine bundles.”
“There is another thing,” had said Cuwignaka, “which can be done.”
“Do it,” had said Hci.
Cuwignaka held his arm to mine, and then I held my arm to that of Hci, and then Hci, in turn, held his arm to that of Cuwignaka. Thus was the circle of blood closed.
“It is done,” said Cuwignaka.
“Brothers,” I said.
“Brothers,” said Hci.
“Brothers,” said Cuwignaka.
-Blood Brothers

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