Kajira of Gor coc-19

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Kajira of Gor coc-19 Page 10

by John Norman


  I struck at it, pounding on it. “Let me out!” I cried. “Let me out!” I heard two sliding sounds. On the other side, I knew, were four pairs of brackets. Never, however, as far as I knew, had they been used. Two of these pairs of brackets were on the door itself, one at the lower part of the door and one at the upper part. Matching them in height, but in the wall, were the other two pairs of brackets. One of these pairs, its members located on opposite sides of the door, corresponded to the upper door brackets, and the other pair, its members opposite one another, one on each side of the door, corresponded to the lower-door brackets. The door was thus, if beams or bars were to be inserted through these brackets, prevented from swinging inward, its natural opening motion.

  The door opened. Five guards were there. Two of them I noted, at a glance, were laying heavy beams against the wall. It was these, then, obviously, which had secured the door.

  “The door was locked!” I said.

  “Yes, Lady,” said the leader of the guards. He was of the third rank, like Drusus Rencius. He, like the others, seemed surprised. Obviously he had not expected to see me at this time of night, or this early in the morning.

  “Why was the door locked?” I demanded.

  “It is always locked at this time of night,” he said.

  “Why?” I demanded.

  “Orders,” said he.

  “Whose orders?” I asked.

  “Those of Ligurious,” he said.

  “Why would such orders be given?” I asked.

  “It is custom,” said the guard.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “To protect the Tatrix, I suppose,” said he. “Surely we would not want her wandering about the palace at night.”

  “There is danger in the palace?” I asked, angrily.

  The guard shrugged. “Perhaps an assassin might have gained entrance,” he said.

  “I would be safe enough accompanied by guards, I am sure,” I said.

  “At this Ahn,” he said, “it is customary for the Tatrix to be within her quarters.”

  “I am leaving them,” I said. I made as though to brush past him. But his arm, like a bar of iron, barred my way. “No, Lady, forgive me,” he said, “but you may not pass.”

  I stopped back. I was startled.

  “I am Tatrix!” I said.

  “Yes, Lady,” said he.

  “Get out of my way!” I said.

  “I am sorry,” he said. “You may not pass.”

  “Call Ligurious!” I said. I was determined to get to the bottom of this matter.

  “I cannot disturb the first minister at this Ahn,” he said.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “He is with his women,” said the man.

  “His women!” I said.

  “Yes, Lady,” said the man.

  “I see,” I said.

  “If you wish,” said the guard, “I can call Drusus Rencius.”

  “No,” I said. “No.” I then withdrew into the room. I saw the door close. Then, a moment or so later, I heard the two beams, one after the other, slid into place.

  “I am the Tatrix!” I screamed, angrily, from behind the door.

  I then took off the robe, angrily, and threw it to the tiles. I could not go out. What need did I have of it?

  Then, trembling, naked, with my finger tips, in the half darkness, in moonlit room, I examined the door. I even felt the great hinges, with their pins, like rivets, on my side of the door. The lower ends of the pins had been spread, beaten wide, so that they could not be forced upwards, freeing them. I sank to my knees behind the door. I lifted my head and put my finger tips to the heavy wood. “I am the Tatrix,” I whispered. Then I rose to my feet and went to the side of the great couch. I looked back to the mirror behind the vanity. I saw the frightened girl there. She was, indisputably female, with all that that might entail on a world such as this.

  “I am the Tatrix,” I whispered.

  Then I crept onto the great couch. I lay on my stomach on the couch, on the silk, near its foot. I supposed that sometimes girls might even be chained in such a place, like a dog at a man’s feet, or perhaps even on the hard, cold tiles, under the slave ring. If I were so chained, I thought, I would quickly learn to be pleasing.

  What manner of world was this, I wondered, on which I found myself. It was a world, I thought, on which men had never relinquished their sovereignty, on which they had never submitted to the knives of psychic castration.

  From Earth, I could scarcely believe the men of this world, in their power and naturalness.

  Where were such men on Earth, I asked myself. They must exist there, some few perhaps, somewhere. Thousands, perhaps millions of women on Earth, I thought, must secretly pine for such men. How, without submitting themselves to such men, how without satisfying the complementary equations of sexuality, could their own femininity be fulfilled? I had wished to go forth in the palace. I had not been permitted to do so, by men. I was angry! But, too, I knew that there were other emotions, deeper emotions, unfamiliar and troubling emotions, uncontrollable emotions, that were welling up within me. These emotions frightened me, and released me. I had not been able to do what I wished. It had not been permitted by men. My will had been overridden. I had been forced to comply not with my own wishes but with those of others. I had had to obey. “I am a Tatrix!” I said, angrily. But I did not believe that it was a Tatrix which lay most deeply within me.

  “What am I?” I wondered.

  I rose on the couch to a position half sitting, half kneeling. I looked at the girl in the mirror, half sitting, half kneeling, as I was.

  “What are you?” I asked. “Are you a Tatrix?”

  She did not respond.

  “You do not look like a Tatrix,” I told her. Again she did not respond. I then lowered myself to the couch and lay, again, on my stomach, near the foot of the couch. I recalled the girl in the mirror. I did not think she was so much different, truly, from the girls I had seen on the street, or those who had been chained on the cement shelves. I did not think that a man would think twice about it, for example, if he found her in a slave market. I was angry with Ligurious. I had been told he was with his “women.”

  I wondered what it would be like to be one of his “women.” Susan, I knew, was one of his women. She was half naked, branded and collared. She knelt before him, head down. She accorded him the utmost deference and respect. I wondered what it would be to be the woman of a man such as Ligurious. Suppose I did not please him, I said to myself. Would I be whipped? Yes, I said to myself, I would be whipped.

  “What am I?” I wondered.

  “I am a Tatrix,” I responded.

  I saw then that it was near morning. I then fell asleep where I had lain down, near the bottom of the couch, near the chain and slave ring.

  Chapter 5 - MILES OF ARGENTUM; DRUSUS RENCIUS SPECULATES ON WHAT I MIGHT RING AS A SLAVE; I HAVE OBTAINED GREATER FREEDOMS

  “The arrogant knave now approaching the throne,” said Ligurious, whispering in my ear, “is Miles, an ambassador, and general, from Argentum.”

  The fellow, approaching, coming up the long aisle toward the great dais, on which my throne reposed, had indeed a bold stride. In the crook of his left arm he carried a helmet, crested with sleen hair. Behind him swirled a huge cape of trimmed, white fur.

  “Remember that those of Argentum are our enemies, the enemies, too, of our great ally, the island of Cos.”

  “I remember,” I said.

  “The men behind him,” said Ligurious, “carry chests, filled with riches, to sue for your favor.”

  “He seems not to approach so humbly,” I said.

  “Brush back your robes a bit, so that he may better see you,” said Ligurious.

  I did this.

  “Allow me,” said Ligurious, “as these matters may be sensitive, to conduct this audience.”

  “Of course,” I said. I was relieved that Ligurious would do this for me. I knew matters were tense between Corcyrus and Ar
gentum. I did not wish to commit any blunders which might reflect adversely on the throne. Ligurious know would what to do.

  I took an immediate dislike to the fellow approaching. He was from Argentum, our enemy.

  I straightened myself on the great throne of Corcyrus, on the high dais, in the great hall of the palace. Men of high councils were about me. Guards, too, were plentiful. My own guard, Drusus Rencius, now in resplendent regalia, fitting for the guard of a Tatrix, was nearby. About the throne, here and there, spilled on the steps of the dais, in the manner of Corcyrus and some other cities, was a tasteful display of riches, rich cloths, golden coins and some chained female slaves. Susan, who was to me as my personal serving slave, kneeling, in a brief, white, see-through lace tunic, was chained on my right, her chain, fastened on her neck, running to a ring on the throne.

  “Miles, Ambassador of Argentum, Miles, General of Argentum!” announced the herald.

  The men behind Miles put down the boxes they brought. Doubtless new riches would soon grace the steps the dais.

  “The throne of Corcyrus,” said Ligurious, “greets the ambassador from Argentum, Miles, general of Argentum.”

  “On behalf of Claudius, Ubar of Argentum,” said Miles, “I accept the greetings of Corcyrus.”

  “But do you not accept them for yourself, as well?” inquired Ligurious.

  “Had I my will,” he said, “I would have come to the walls of Corcyrus not with the scrolls of protest but the engines of war.”

  “Beware the quickness of your tongue,” said Ligurious, “for you rant now not in one of Argentum’s taverns but in Corcyrus, and before the throne of her Tatrix.”

  “Forgive me, noble Ligurious,” said Miles. “I forgot myself. It was a natural mistake. In the taverns of Argentum we of Argentum are indeed accustomed to speaking freely before women such as your Tatrix. They are paga slaves.”

  There were cries of rage about me.

  “Indeed,” said he, “I have had many women far superior to your Tatrix in just such taverns. They served, well in their chains, naked, in the pleasure alcoves.”

  More than one blade about me slipped swiftly, menacingly, from its sheath. Miles did not budge, nor flinch, at the foot of the throne. He had a great shock of black hair. His piercing gray eyes rested upon me. I wished that I was veiled. I did not think he would ever forget what I looked like.

  “Your scrolls have been examined,” said Ligurious. “I, the Tatrix, and those of the high councils, have scrutinized them with more care than they deserved. Their evidences are false, their arguments specious, their claims fraudulent.”

  “Such a dismissal of their contents I expected,” said Miles. “I myself would not have transmitted them. Better to have sent you the defiance of Argentum and a spear of war.”

  I myself had examined the scrolls only in a sense. Excerpts had been read to me, with criticism, by Ligurious. His analysis of their contents, I did not doubt, was sound. He was a highly intelligent man, and familiar, clearly, with the geographical and political features of the problems. The issues had to do primarily with our silver mines, which, unfortunately, lay near Argentum. Force, it seemed, was required to protect them. These mines were said to be almost as rich as those of Tharna, far to the north and east of Corcyrus. The claim of Argentum, course, was that the silver mines were theirs. My education, so full and exacting in many ways, was incomplete in at least one obvious and glaring detail. I had not been taught to read Gorean. I was illiterate in Gorean.

  “It is fortunate for Corcyrus, and for peace,” said Ligurious, “that he with whom we truly have to deal is not Miles, general of Argentum, but with Claudius, her Ubar. He, I trust, is far less hotheaded. He, I trust, is more rational. He, I trust, may be expected to see reason and acknowledge, however reluctantly, the justice of our cause.”

  “Corcyrus is not feared by Argentum,” said Miles.

  “Yet,” smiled Ligurious, “it seems that men with you have brought chests, bound with bands of iron, and intricately wrought coffers, to the foot of our throne.”

  “That is true,” said Miles. These chests and coffers were behind him, on the floor.

  “If the gifts are suitable,” said Ligurious, “our Tatrix, after the cession of the mines, may be moved to deal somewhat less harshly with the miscreants of Argentum.”

  “I am sure that Claudius, my Ubar, would be relieved to hear that,” said Miles.

  Ligurious inclined big head, acknowledging these words graciously. There was some laughter about me. I heard blades being returned to sheaths.

  “I see,” said Ligurious, lightly, “that you bring With you no male silk slaves, in chains, to be presented to the Tatrix.”

  “It is well known,” said Miles, “that the Tatrix of Corcyrus is not interested in men, but only in gold and power.”

  “Beware,” said Ligurious.

  I did not understand, truly, the remark of Miles of Argentum. I was not interested in men, of course, I reassured myself, as a woman of Earth, but, on the other hand, I did not think that I was unusually greedy either. Such things, at any rate, were generally not uppermost in my mind. There was a difference sometimes, I supposed, between the true and reputed characters of public figures. How odd, sometimes, are fame and rumors. That I might conceivably be presented with male silk slaves took me aback for a moment but then I realized that, as a female ruler, it was not out of the question that I might be presented with such gifts.

  Typical gifts for a male ruler, I knew, might include beautiful female slaves, additional riches for his pleasure gardens.

  “You may now open the chests and coffers,” said Ligurious, eyeing them with interest.

  “How is it,” inquired Miles, “that the Tatrix of Corcyrus goes unveiled?”

  “It is custom,” said Ligurious.

  “From our former messengers and envoys,” said Miles, “I gather that the custom is a new one.”

  “Every custom has its beginning,” said Ligurious. I was interested to hear this. I had not realized that the custom was a recent one. “There are many justifications for initiating such a custom. Foremost among them, doubtless, is that it is now possible for her subjects to gaze upon her with awe and reverence.”

  “I should think, rather,” said Miles, smiling, “that you might fear that her subjects would gaze upon her not with awe and reverence, but interest.”

  “Interest?” asked Ligurious.

  “Yes, said Miles, “wondering, perhaps, what she might look like in a collar.”

  “I think it is time,” said Ligurious, “that you should improve your service to your Ubar. Let us see what gifts he proffers to Corcyrus, petitioning for our mercy and favor.”

  “Take no offense, Lady,” said Miles to me, “for it is high commendation I extend to you. Though I have had many women far superior to you, and even in the alcoves of taverns, I am not insensitive to your beauty. It is not inconsiderable. Indeed, I have no doubt that in the middle price ranges you would prove to be a desirable buy.”

  I clenched my fists on the arms of the throne. How insolent he was! How I hated him! I wondered, too, if some men, indeed, might find me a desirable buy.

  “Open the chests and coffers,” said Ligurious, menacingly.

  “Surely Corcyrus needs no more riches,” said Miles. “Consider the lavishness of the appointments of this hall, the richness of the regalia of those here convened.”

  “Let us see what Claudius has sent us,” said Ligurious.

  “I see rich cloths here,” he said, indicating the cloths spread tastefully about the steps of the dais. “I see that there is gold in Corcyrus,” he said, indicating the coins in their plentitudes, seemingly casually spilled about the steps. “I see, too,” he said, “that there are beautiful slaves in Corcyrus.” His eyes rested then, fully, upon Susan, kneeling, chained by the neck to the side of my throne. This was not the first time that he had seen her, of course. Indeed, I had seen him picking her out more than once. I think he found her of inte
rest. At any rate, clearly, she was not now being noticed in passing, as a mere component in a display, but was being attended to, observed, scrutinized, even studied, as a specific, individual slave, on her chain. She drew back, fearfully, with a small sound of the chain. She did not dare to meet his eyes.

  She clenched her thighs closely together. She was trembling her breathing was rapid; doubtless her heart was pounding; doubtless she was aware of it in her small rib cage. Yet I had seen her looking at him. She had hardly been able to keep her eyes from him. I supposed it was difficult for mere female slaves, in their scanty garments, and in their lowly station, not to be excited by rich, powerful, handsome, resplendent free men, so far above themselves. It was much easier for one like myself, a free woman, and richly robed, to control, resist and fight femininity. In the case of the slave, on the other hand, femininity is actually required of her.

  Indeed, if she is insufficiently feminine she will be beaten. It is no wonder female slaves are so helpless with men.

  I noted the eyes of Miles of Argentum on Susan. She trembled, being appraised. I felt sudden danger, and jealousy. He had not looked at me like that! To be sure, she was a slave, and I was free. It would certainly be improper for anyone to look on me, a free woman, in that candid, basic way! Too, Susan had me at a disadvantage. Would not any woman look attractive if she were half naked and put on a chain? How could I compete with that? Let us both be stripped and chained, I thought, and then let men decide, examining us, which was most beautiful. But then I realized that Susan was, doubtless, far more beautiful than I. She was exquisite. It had been no mistake on the part of slavers that she had been brought to Gor.

  I then thought that tonight I might whip Susan. She could not resist. She was a slave. I could have her take off her clothes and then tie her to a ring. I could then whip her.

 

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