Kajira of Gor

by Norman, John;

  Suddenly the beast, on its chain leash, leapt towards us. Sheila and I screamed, pulling back. I actually felt the body of the beast, its oily fur, the muscles and ribs beneath it, brush me, lunging past me. Sheila tried to scramble back, wild in her chains, but, held, could not do so. She threw her head back, her eyes closed, sobbing and screaming, begging the masters for mercy. The frenzied sleen tried to reach Sheila. Its claws scratched and slipped on the tiles. It snapped and bit at her, its eyes blazing. Its fangs, long, wild, white, moist, curved, gleaming, were but inches from her enslaved beauty.

  A word was spoken. The sleen drew back. It was thrown meat. Sheila, her eyes glazed, hair before her face, looked numbly at the animal. She was still held by the soldier. Had she not been I think she might have slumped to the tiles. How helpless we are, naked and in our chains, before masters. How they can do with us whatever they wish!

  "The clothing with which the sleen was put on the scent of the woman on our right could have been imbued with her scent at any time, of course," said Ligurious. "For example, it could have been put in the sack with her for a night, when she was being brought to Argentum. I have here, however, and I now break the seal, clothing which is actually that of the former Tatrix of Corcyrus. See? Already she cringes and shrinks back. She knows that by this clothing she will be exactly and incontrovertibly identified as the former true Tatrix of Corcyrus."

  I watched in horror as Ligurious tossed the clothing, piece by piece, to one of the sleen keepers. One of the pieces was the brief, sashed, yellow-silk robe I had been fond of. It was the first garment I had ever worn on Gor.

  "That one garment," said Miles of Argentum, indicating a scarlet robe, with a yellow, braided belt, "appears to be that in which she put her curves on the day of my audience with her, that having to do with the scrolls of protest."

  "It is," Ligurious assured him.

  I also saw there garments which looked like those I had worn to the song drama with Drusus Rencius, and had worn later with him on the walls of Corcyrus.

  "Surely you recognize that garment?" asked Ligurious, indicating a purple robe with golden trim, and a golden belt.

  "Yes," said Miles of Argentum. "That is the garment she wore when she was captured."

  "By you," said Ligurious.

  "Yes, by me," said Miles.

  "But she did not wear it long, did she?" asked Ligurious.

  "No," he grinned. There was laughter from the tables.

  I did not doubt but what these garments were genuine. The last garment, for example, was undoubtedly really that which had been taken from me in the throne room of Corcyrus, before the very throne itself, before I had been taken naked and in chains outside, into the courtyard, to be placed in a golden cage. These garments, Ligurious had informed me in the throne room of Argentum, before placing me in the golden sack, from which I had been rescued by Drusus Rencius, had been smuggled out of Corcyrus. He had probably paid much to obtain them.

  The last pieces were all items of intimate feminine apparel, which had been worn next to my body.

  I was embarrassed to see them. Now that I was a slave, of course, I would have been grateful to have even so much to wear publicly. But when I had worn them they had been the garments of a free woman. Thus, when I saw them now it was as one who had once been a free woman that I was embarrassed. Few free women care to have their intimate garments exhibited publicly before men.

  I then saw the sleen, a different sleen, thrust its snout deeply into the pile of garments. I could hear it snuffling about in them. I saw the keeper, too, take the intimate garments, wadded in his hand, and thrust them beneath the animal's snout. He then held one of the longer, sliplike garments open from the bottom, and, to my horror, I saw the beast, sniffing and growling, thrust its snout deeply into the garment. My scent, from my intimacies, would doubtless be strongest in such a place.

  I shrank back, even further. The hands of the soldier behind me, on my arms, forbade me further retreat.

  In a moment the sleen leaped forward. I closed my eyes and screamed. I felt the hot breath of the animal on my breasts. I seemed surrounded by its snarling. I heard the scratching and slipping of its claws on the tiles, the rattle and tightening, and rattle and tightening, again, of the links of the chain leash, in its lunges toward me. I sensed its force, its terribleness, its eagerness. I heard the snapping of its jaws. Could the keeper judge the distances unerringly? Could he hold the animal? What if the chain broke? I opened my eyes. In that instant the beast was again lunging toward me. In that instant, in a flash, I saw the cavernous maw, the fangs, the long, dark tongue, the blazing eyes, the intentness, the single-mindedness, the power, the eagerness of the beast. I threw back my head and screamed miserably. "Pity!" I begged. "I beg mercy, my masters!" I cried, a terrified slave, addressing them all, in my terror, as though they might be my legal masters.

  Then the sleen, with a word, was withdrawn, and thrown meat. I trembled. Were it not for the hands of the soldier behind me, on my arms, I might have collapsed. I saw Drusus Rencius looking at me with scorn. I did not care. I was not a warrior! I was a girl, and a slave!

  "Thus, you see," said Ligurious, "who was the true Tatrix of Corcyrus."

  "Each woman, it would seem," said Claudius, "has been identified as such, one in virtue of the articles of Hassan and one in virtue of the articles with which you have furnished us."

  "Examine the seals," said Ligurious, triumphantly. "See which bears the true seal of Corcyrus!"

  The broken seals were brought to Claudius. He put them on the table before him. Members of the high council crowded about him.

  "The seal broken from the package of Ligurious," he said, "is the seal of Corcyrus."

  "That cannot be," said Hassan.

  "Perhaps you will be given two Ahn in which to leave Argentum," said Ligurious.

  "I have the letter from Menicius!" said Hassan.

  "It, too, doubtless, will bear the same seal as was on the package," said Ligurious.

  "Yes," said Hassan.

  "I, too, have such a letter, but a genuine one," said Ligurious, "describing and authenticating the garments I have produced for you. That letter bears the signature of Menicius and is marked with the true seal of Corcyrus." He reached within his robes and produced a letter, wrapped with a ribbon, the ribbon and the flaps of the letter secured with a melted disk of wax, this wax bearing the imprint of a seal.

  The seal was examined.

  "It is the seal of Corcyrus," said Claudius.

  The letter was opened and examined.

  "The descriptions tally with the garments brought to us by Ligurious," said one of the members of the high council.

  "Who has signed the letter?" inquired Ligurious.

  "Menicius," said one of the members of the high council, looking up.

  "I think not," said a voice.

  All eyes turned to the back of the room. There, the guest who had been hooded rose to his feet.

  "Who would dare to gainsay me in this?" inquired Ligurious.

  With two hands the guest brushed back his hood.

  "I think that I am known to several in this room," he said. "Some of you were present at my investiture as Administrator of Corcyrus."

  "Menicius!" cried more than one man.

  Ligurious staggered backwards.

  "My dear Ligurious," said Menicius, "your confederate in Corcyrus is now in custody. He has confessed all. I deemed, accordingly, it might be of interest to venture incognito to Argentum. I did so with the papers of a minor envoy, bearing my own signature."

  How startled I was! I now recognized, and clearly, the hitherto unknown guest. I had known him as Menicius, of the metal workers. He was the man whose life I had spared, when he had spoken out so forcibly against the Tatrix, on that day, so long ago, when I had been in the palanquin with Ligurious, that day in which, in the glory of a state procession, we had been carried through the streets of Corcyrus. Doubtless Drusus Rencius, who had prevented him from re
aching the palanquin, remembered him well, for his courage and his opposition to the rule of the Tatrix.

  "I was interested to hear that you were the leader of the opposition to the rule of the Tatrix," said Menicius to Ligurious. "I, myself, had thought that that honor was mine."

  Ligurious looked about himself. He took one or two steps backward.

  "I suggest that that man be put in shackles," said Menicius.

  "Do it," said Claudius. Two guardsmen moved swiftly to Ligurious. In a moment his wrists had been shackled behind him.

  "The seals," said Menicius, "on the package and letter of Hassan were genuine. It is natural, however, that they were unfamiliar to you. They are imprints of the new seal of Corcyrus. It was discovered, after the institution of the new regime in Corcyrus, that the old seal was missing. Presumably it had been taken by Ligurious in his flight from the city. That now seems evident. For this reason, and also to commemorate the rise of a new order in Corcyrus, it was changed."

  Ligurious, shackled, looked down at the tiles.

  Menicius came about the tables. He stopped before Sheila and myself. We, slaves, put our heads to the tiles. "Lift your heads, Slaves," he said. We complied.

  "We meet again," said Menicius to me.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "Who are you?" he asked.

  "My master is Miles of Argentum," I said. "He has named me 'Sheila.'"

  "You look well in slave chains, Sheila," he said.

  "Thank you, Master," I said.

  He turned to Sheila. "Who are you?" he asked.

  "My master is Hassan, of Kasra," she said. "He has named me 'Sheila.'"

  "You look well in slave chains, Sheila," he said.

  "Thank you, Master," she said.

  He then, from his robes, removed a package and, opening it, exhibited soft and silken contents.

  She drew back, shuddering in her chains.

  "These are further garments from Corcyrus," he said. "They were taken from among the belongings of the Tatrix of Corcyrus, found in her suite of rooms in the palace." He turned to regard Sheila. "Perhaps you recognize them?" he asked.

  "Admit nothing!" called Ligurious.

  She looked wildly at Hassan. His face was expressionless. She then, a slave, obeyed Ligurious, a free man.

  "Consider the nature of these garments," he said. "They are clearly, in a fashion, slave garments. This may be determined from their lightness, their softness and tininess. On the other hand, there are some anomalies here. For example, note that here there is a nether closure. That would certainly be unusual in a garment permitted by a Gorean master to a female slave."

  There was laughter here.

  "They are barbarian garments," he said. The garments he was exhibiting to those at the tables were undergarments of sorts common to free women of Earth. I had not really thought before of how feminine they were and how appropriate to slaves. Who but a slave would permit such delicious, delicate and silken things to touch their bodies?

  "But few barbarian girls, as nearly as we can tell, come to Gor clothed and, if they do, they are seldom permitted to retain their clothing, or the bits of clothing left to them at that point, past the sales block, on which, one supposes, it might be removed from them."

  There was some acknowledgment of this from the tables. There is a Gorean saying that only a fool buys a woman clothed.

  "The Tatrix of Corcyrus, on the other hand, though a barbarian, was apparently permitted to keep this clothing. Similarly she was permitted to keep her freedom. That was removed from her only recently by Hassan, he of Kasra."

  The girl beside me whimpered.

  I glanced to her.

  Yes, her freedom had been removed, and, as mine—with perfection.

  What knelt now beside me was now no more than I, no more than a frightened, stripped, chained slave girl.

  In both of us had the transformation been wrought, that from free woman to submitted slave. And I suspected that she, no more than I, even if permitted, could return to the simplicities, pretensions, abstractions, lies, and hypocrisies of our former state.

  We had learned submission, and its fitting raptures, and now wanted it, and needed it, and hungered for it. No longer could we live without it. Well had we learned that we belonged, submitted, at the feet of masters. We would live for their caress, and to please them. We had learned much; we had learned ourselves.

  But this, of course, I told myself, fearfully, must be concealed from Drusus Rencius!

  I must never let him learn that I was in my heart no more than a master's slave! How he would despise me if he knew me as no more than a slave, a girl suitable for collars and auction blocks, one appropriately to be exchanged for coins. I so wanted his respect! How otherwise could he care for me? I must strive to have him think me an object of misfortune, a free woman lamentably, unconscionably embonded. For whom could a man such as he entertain respect but a free woman? I thought of the noble, serene, contumacious, insolent, lofty free women of Gor. It was surely as such that he would have me be. I must attempt to be needless, and cold, in his presence. I must have him think me in my heart free. I must never let him suspect that I was in my heart an enflamed, passionate slave, a miserable, worthless barbarian, deserving only of his contempt and abuse.

  Men at the tables looked at one another.

  "Some of us," said Menicius, "are familiar with the rumors, the frightening rumors, that there are forces on Gor, and elsewhere, who would challenge the power of the Priest-Kings themselves, rulers of Gor from time immemorial."

  Men looked at one another, fearfully. Sometimes it seemed likely to me that the Priest-Kings were mythical entities. Surely they mixed, as far as I could tell, little in the affairs of Gor. On the other hand, it was also clear to me that someone, or something, must be in opposition to the forces which had brought me to Gor. Those forces, for example, had mastered space flight. Surely Goreans, with their swords and spears, by themselves, could not have resisted them. Their clandestine efforts, for all their power, suggested the existence of a formidable counter-power. That counter-power, I suppose, for want of a better name, might be referred to as that of Priest-Kings.

  "It seems likely to me, thus," said Menicius, "that such forces might bring wealth and barbarian agents, perhaps, with no Gorean allegiances, to our world, laboring in their behalf. Too, of course, they might recruit native Goreans for their purposes. How, except for such power, could a barbarian woman, such as Sheila, the former Tatrix of Corcyrus, come to power in a city such as Corcyrus? I suspect, also, that the true motivation of the attack on the mines of Argentum was not to fill the coffers of Corcyrus, already a prosperous city, but to supplement the economic resources of these other forces. They intend, perhaps, failing success in outward aggression, to subvert our world, city by city, or to form a league of cities, that may become dominant among our states. This might be accomplished, presumably, within the weapon laws and technological limitations imposed upon Gorean humans by Priest-Kings, for whatever might be their purposes."

  Men looked at Sheila. She put her head down, trembling.

  "Preposterous though those ideas may sound," said Menicius, "there is some plausibility to them. Too, further evidence comes from two sources. Outside of Corcyrus, in a great field, have been found burned grass and three large, deep, geometrically spaced depressions, as though something of great heat and weight, perhaps some giant, heated steel insect or fiery mechanical bird, had alighted there. Too, within the palace itself, in a subterranean chamber, we found the smells, the spoor and traces of some large, unknown beast which, apparently, perhaps from time to time, resided there. It had apparently removed itself from those premises, however, well before the downfall of the city."

  Ligurious was looking at the tiles. He did not look up.

  "Ligurious?" asked Claudius.

  "I know nothing of these things," said Ligurious, shrugging.

  "Shall we see whose garments these are?" inquired Menicius, lifting the delicat
e undergarments of Earth clutched in his fist.

  "Yes, yes," said various men in the room.

  "Please, no, Master!" wept Sheila. Then she lowered her head, cringing, for she had spoken without permission. The soldier behind her looked to Hassan, who nodded. He then cuffed her to her side from behind with the back of his hand, and then ordered her again to her knees, to which position she struggled in her chains. Menicius, meanwhile, had thrown the garments, in a silken, fluttering wad, to one of the sleen masters who thrust them beneath the snout of the beast. In a moment it was moving swiftly about the room its nose to the floor, and then, suddenly, taking the scent, lunged murderously, claws slipping on the tiles, toward Sheila. Inches from her body, the chain on its collar jerked taut, it was held back. She screamed but could not withdraw, held mercilessly, immobilely, on her knees, in place, by the soldier behind her.

  "The identification is made," said Claudius, and, with a wave of his hand, signaled the sleen keeper to divert and pacify his beast. A word was whispered. The sleen, suddenly, in the superbness of its training, drew back. It seemed suddenly calm. Its tail no longer lashed back and forth. Its tongue, from the heat of its activity, lolled forth from its mouth, dripping saliva to the tiles. I could see, too, the imprint of its paws, in dampness, on the tiles. The sleen tends to sweat largely through its mouth and the leathery paws of its feet. It fell upon the meat which it was thrown.