"John Norman - Gor 01- Tarnsman of Gor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman John)

I looked puzzled.

"The handful of earth," he said. "A handful of my native ground."

I nodded, not wanting to speak, wanting him to tell me the thousand things I had to know, to
dispel the mysteries that had torn me from my native world and brought me to this strange room,
this planet, to him, my father.

"You must be hungry," he said.

"I want to know where I am and what I am doing here," I said.

"Of course," he said, "but you must eat." He smiled. "While you satisfy your hunger, I shall speak
to you."

He clapped his hands twice, and the panel slid back again. I was startled. Through the opening
came a young girl, somewhat younger than myself, with blond hair bound back. She wore a sleeveless


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garment of diagonal stripes, the brief skirt of which terminated some inches above her
knees. She was barefoot, and as her eyes shyly met mine, I saw they were blue and deferential. My
eyes suddenly noted her one piece of jewelry-a light, steel like band she wore as a collar. As
quickly as she had come, she departed.

"You may have her this evening if you wish," said my father, who had scarcely seemed to notice the
girl.

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I said no.

At my father's insistence, I began to eat, reluctantly, never taking my eyes from him, hardly
tasting the food, which was simple but excellent. The meat reminded me of venison; it was not the
meat of an animal raised on domestic grains. It had been roasted over an open flame. The bread was
still hot from the oven. The fruit-grapes and peaches of some sort-was fresh and as cold as
mountain snow. After the meal I tasted the drink, which might not inappropriately be described as
an almost incandescent wine, bright, dry, and powerful. I learned later it was called Ka-la-na.
While I ate, and afterward, my father spoke.

"Gor," he said, "is the name of this world. In all the languages of this planet, the word means
Home Stone." He paused, noting my lack of comprehension. "Home Stone," he repeated. "Simply that.

"In peasant villages on this world," he continued, "each but was originally built around a flat
stone which was placed in the center of the circular dwelling. It was carved with the family sign
and was called the Home Stone. It was, so to speak, a symbol of sovereignty, or territory, and
each peasant, in his own hut, was a sovereign."

"Later," said my father, "Home Stones were used for villages, and later still for cities. The Home