revealed, beautifully, in her serving.
I saw his collar gleaming at her throat.
Marlenus looked at me and smiled. I nodded. Verna was a slave.
She lifted her eyes to him, helplessly.
“Later,” said Marlenus. “I must finish this game.”
“Yes, Master!” she whispered.
She withdrew, kneeling, and watched. Her eyes were on the board, but I could see
that she did not understand the game. It was only pieces to her. Yet she sensed
the struggle.
Sometimes she looked away from the board. She was breathing deeply. Her fists
would clench and unclench. There was a light sheen of sweat on her body. The
slave silk clung to her the more closely. She put her head back. Her thighs
moved. She was in the torment of her need, often visible in a female slave.
“Tarnsman to Ubara Six,” said Marlenus. He moved his tarnsman to his Ubara Six,
my Ubara Four.
“Capture of the Home Stone,” said Marlenus.
I had been crushed.
I shrugged. I stood up.
Verna’s eyes shone. I had been defeated, and devastatingly, by her master. She
did not play the game, but this much she knew. She could read it in the tone of
Marlenus, the swiftness with which he had moved, his insolent handling of the
pieces, the vigor and arrogance of his carriage. I had been driven before his
attack, stumbling and reeling before him. I could not defend myself. I had been
helpless. He had crushed me.
This Verna knew. She could not take her eyes from him.
Marlenus set aside the board, and looked upon her. He had now set aside the
things of men, and was ready for her, a woman.
I walked to one side of the tent.
“Remove the silk,” said Marlenus, “and come to my arms.”
Verna parted the slave silk, and dropped it to the side. He was sitting
cross-legged, and she crept to him, trembling. He took her and held her across
his knees, cradling her in his left arm. She looked up at him, vulnerable,
helpless. His right hand was at her thigh, over her brand. There was the slight
sound of slave bells, locked on her left ankle.
“You seem a woman,” said Marlenus.
“I am a woman,” said Verna.
“Are you free?” asked Marlenus.
“No,” she whispered. “I am a slave. I am your slave.”
With his hand Marlenus turned her head from side to side. Her hair was back.
“These are lovely earrings,” he said.
I could see, from across the tent, the tiny shadows, where the small golden
wires were thrust through the softness of her ear lobes.
They were indeed beautiful.
“Yes,” whispered Verna, a lowly pierced-ear girl in the arms of her master.
“Do you like them?” asked Marlenus.
“Yes,” she whispered. “They excite me. They excite me as a woman.”
“That is one of their purposes,” said Marlenus.
She attempted to lift her lips, delicately, to his, but his hand prevented them
from touching his.
“Do you like your lipstick?” asked Marlenus.
“Yes,” she whispered, “yes, Master!”
“It, too, excites you, does it not?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
“How is that?” he asked.
“It, like the earrings,” she whispered, “males me feel more female, more slave.”
“You are female, and slave,” said Marlenus.
“Yes, Master, she whispered. “I know. I have been taught.”
He then, with his right hand, this first kiss that he placed upon the lips of
his slave girl, a kiss in which she was, by intent, permitted no part, save to
feel the bruising of it in her body. When he thrust her back there was blood at
her mouth, and fear in her eyes. She was now frightened of him, terribly
frightened. But he put her to her back, swiftly, casually, and his hand was at
her body. Then, though there was fear in her eyes, her body, as though of its
own will, began to leap to his touch, that of her master. Her body, as though of
its own will, obeyed the touch of Marlenus. Then she cried out, “Oh yes, Master,
yes!” Her head was back. Her eyes were closed. She twisted. “I love you,
Master!” she wept, “I love you!”
“Tomorrow,” said Marlenus, “you will put a talender in your hair.”
“Yes, Master,” she cried. “I will. I will!”
I slipped from the tent. I looked back once. I saw, to one side, a bowl of
scarlet, five-petaled flaminiums.
As I walked into the darkness I heard Verna’s helpless cries of joy. I heard,
too, the sound of slave bells. They had been locked on her left ankle. They
could not be removed, save by a key in the keeping of Marlenus.
“I love you, Master,” I heard her cry. “I love you. I cannot help myself. I love
you, Master! I love you, my Master!”
I envied Marlenus his girl, Verna. She was a beauty, and, in time, would be a
prize slave. I thought of Sheera. Many times the thought of her had crossed my
mind. I had told her I was going to sell her in Lydius. Perhaps I would not. I
found myself lonely for Sheera. I called myself a fool. She was only a slave.
But she was a slave not without promise. I recalled her in my shelter beside the
Tesephone, in the darkness, and in the following day. She was not displeasing.
Perhaps, with training, something could be made of her. I reminded myself that
it was said that panther girls, once conquered, made excellent slaves.
Lying in the darkness, wrapped in my blankets, I heard, in the distance, Verna’s
cries of pleasure.
I threw away the blankets. I walked through the camp, until I came to the chain
of Verna’s girls, they in their skins, each chained by the right ankle, the long
chain fastened between the two stakes.
They were asleep, on the ground. Marlenus had told me that any of the women in
the camp, save Verna, were free to me.
I looked along the chain, until I found one that pleased me.
She was sweet-bodied, wide-shouldered, dark-haired, like Sheera.
I knelt beside her and place my hand over her mouth. She squirmed helplessly. I
held her. She eyes, over my hand, were wild.
“Be silent,” I told her.
Then I removed my hand from her mouth. She looked up at me.
I took her skins by the shoulders, and drew them from her body, leaving them
about her right ankle, where it was fastened to the chain.
She lifted her arms to me, and her lips. I held her, gently, and them began to
touch her. I felt her lips on mine. “Be silent,” I whispered to her. “Yes,
Master,” she whispered. “Yes, Master.”
It was nearly dawn when I left her side. At times I had to keep her mouth
covered with my hand.
“What is your name?” I asked her.
“Rena,” she whispered.
“It is a lovely name,” I said, “and you, Rena, are a lovely slave.”
“Thank you, Master,” she whispered.
I returned to my blankets, to get an Ahn’s sleep, if I could, before the camp
became too much astir.
I looked up at the moons. I recalled Sheera. Yes, I did not think I would sell
her in Lydius.
I recalled her, as I had seen her chained at the bar in Lydius. Even then I had
wanted her.
And I recalled her in the hold of the Tesephone, and later, in the
camp, in my shelter beside the Tesephone, that hot night, and the sweet day that
had followed.
No, when I returned, I would be in no hurry to sell her. She was a juicy slave,
and one of high intelligence. She was not without interest. I rather liked the
look of my collar on her throat.
I reminded myself that it was said that panther girls, once conquered, make
excellent slaves.
I think it is a true saying.
I rolled over in my blankets, and fell asleep. In the morning I must make my way
back to the Tesephone.
12 I Return to my Camp on the Banks of the Laurius
My emotions were much mixed as I made my way through the tall forest toward the
banks of the Laurius.
I had left my men at the camp of Marlenus, Arn, his outlaws, and the five men
from the Tesephone. I had wished to be alone on this journey. They would follow
me, in two days.
I carried my weapons, even the great bow, recovered from Verna’s camp, days
before.
I had come to the forest rich in my prides and my plans. I would, from under the
nose of Marlenus, preferably by trade, snatch Talena, thus evening the score for
his banishment of me from Ar, thus regaining her, thus winning glory, thus
setting my ladder against the political heights of the planet Gor, for, with
such a woman at my side, there were few doors and cylinders that would be locked
against me, and I, only a merchant of Port Kar, might have ascended unimpeded
the stairs of influence and power. At a stroke, companionship with such a woman,
coupled with my position and riches in Port Kar, would have made me one of the
most significant and prominent men of Gor.
I smiled.
Men of lowly origins and great ambition and talent, I knew, had often used
alliances with high-born women to further the fortunes of their designs. Such
alliances, portions of their planning, lifted them to strata where their talents
and energies might have full play, strata otherwise closed to them by dominant,
controlling groups and families, jealous of and protective of their own
interests. The dominant and effective families thus take into themselves
newcomers of energy and intelligence, who, in exchange for position and
opportunity, when they themselves are allied with such families, help keep the
families high and dominant in the society. Human structures are group
structures, and closed groups, with senses of their own best interest, yet open
enough and intelligent enough to accept a certain amount, carefully selected, of
new and driving blood, regulate society. Many people are unaware of such groups,
for they are seldom identifiable save through lines of social relation and
connection. The first families of a city usually constitute one or more of such
groups, sometimes competitive groups. When a city falls, the daughters of such
families are most avidly sought by the conquerors as slaves. Their first duty,
naked and collared, is to serve the conquerors at their victory feast.
Subsequently, they are commonly awarded to high officers or men who have
especially distinguished themselves in the taking of the city, perhaps an
individual who has led a sortie which successfully stormed a gate, or the first
man upon the enemy’s walls, or one who has captured a member of the city’s
council. In the latter case, if the council member has a daughter, it is common
to give her to the man who has captured her father.
I was, of course, only of the merchants.
I laughed.
With the daughter of a Ubar as a consort there would be few who would dare to
recall that I was not of high caste. And, surely, with such a woman at my side,
many cities, vying for my good will, would beg me to accept investiture as a
warrior, a high caste, in their rolls.
Companionship with the daughter of Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars, would have brought
me much, I needed much.
I was already a rich and powerful man, but my political power did not extend
beyond Port Kar. And in Port Kar, I recalled my political power, strictly,
extended no further than my vote in the Council of Captains. I was not even
first in the council. That post was held by Samos.
In the past years, in Port Kar, my ambitions had enlarged. Economic power and
political power are like the left and the right foot. My ventures in merchantry
had secured me wealth. My companionship with Talena, opening up a thousand
avenues and alliances, conjoined with my riches, would have made me easily among
the most splendid and powerful men on Gor.
Who knew how high might have been raised the chair of Bosk?
I laughed bitterly. How foolishly I had brought my prides and my plans to the
northern forests.
I had little to show for my efforts. I would be a laughing stock.
I and my men had fallen to panther girls. We had been outwitted, and tricked.
Though we were men, we had fallen to women. Our heads, in token of our
humiliation, had been shaved by our captors. Each of us, including the mighty
Bosk, wore the two-and-one-half inch swath on our heads, running from our
foreheads to the back of our necks, making it clear to all who it was who had
taken us in the forests.
I, and my men, would have been raped and sold, summarily, had we not been
rescued by the great Marlenus, Ubar of Ubars.
He had succeeded, casually, where we had failed. It was he, not Bosk, to whom
Verna and her girls had fallen. It was he, not Bosk, who would sell them, or do
with them as he pleased.
And he had even extended to me and my men the courtesy of his camp,
magnanimously.
I shook my head. Marlenus was indeed a Ubar, a Ubar of Ubars.
Verna, had been a rude, proud, strong, defiant, ill-tempered, magnificent outlaw
woman, hating men. Then she had fallen to Marlenus of Ar, who would not accept
her as such. He had played a savage game, crushing her, turning her into a slave
girl. Verna was not property, to be bid upon, and bought and sold by any free
man. But, too, paradoxically perhaps, she was joyful in the discovery of
herself, her sex and her body. It mattered not that the discovery had been
forced upon her. Too long had she fought and denied her womanhood. As a slave,
she would no longer be permitted to do so. She had been a proud outlaw woman,
fierce, resenting men, hostile toward them. Marlenus had touched her. She was
feminine, utterly feminine, unlocked, opened, a conquered, helpless, loving
slave.
I asked myself, as Verna had twice before, Marlenus, are you always victorious?
Now I returned to the Tesephone, without Talena, with nothing.
Marlenus, as was his right, she being an ex-citizen of Ar, would free her, and
return her, in simple robes of concealment, in disgrace, to her former city.
She had been disowned.
She was now nothing.
She had only her beauty, and that was branded.
Companionship with such a person, for anyone of position or power, was
unthinkable. It would result in the equivalent of ostracism. With her as
companion one could be only rich. Companionship with such a person, an ex-slave,
/>
one without caste, one without family and position, would be, politically and
socially, a gross and incomparable mistake.
I wondered of the daughters of Ubars. It was unfortunate that the great Ubar,
Marlenus, had no such daughter. Had he one, she might have been ideal.
Lurius of Jad, Ubar of the island of Cos, was said, by a long-dissolved
companionship, to have a daughter. Phanius Turmus, of Turia, was said to have
two daughters. They had once been enslaved by Tuchuks, but they were now free.
They had been returned, though still wearing the chains of slaves, as a gesture
of good will, by Kamchak, Ubar San of the Wagon Peoples. Turia was called the Ar
of the south.
Cos and Port Kar, of course, are enemies, but, if the Companion Price offered
Lurius were sufficient, I would not expect him to hesitate in giving me the
girl. The alliance, of course, would be understood, on all sides, as not
altering the political conditions obtaining between the cities. It was up to
Lurius to dispose of his daughter as he saw fit. She might not desire to come to
Port Kar, but the feelings of the girl are not considered in such matters. Some
high-born women are less free than the most abject of slave girls.
Clark of Thentis had a daughter, but he was not a Ubar. He was not even of high
caste. He, too, was of the merchants. Indeed, there were many important
merchants who had daughters, for example, the first merchant of Teletus and the
first merchant of Asperiche. Indeed, the two latter individuals had already, in
the past year, approached me with the prospect of a companionship with their
daughters, but I had declined to discuss the matter.
I wanted a woman of high caste.
I could probably have Claudia Tentia Hinrabia, of the Builders, who had been
daughter of Claudius Tentius Hinrabius, once Ubar of Ar, but she was now without
family. Marlenus, in whose palace she held her residence, probably in his
generosity, would have seen that she accepted my proposal. I recalled she had
once been slave, and that I had, on a certain occasion, in the house of Cernus,
seen her fully. Other things being equal, I would, of course, prefer a beautiful
companion. Claudia, as I recalled with pleasure, was beautiful. Further, she,
once having been slave, would promise delights not always obtainable from an
ignorant free woman. A woman who has once been slave, incidentally, often wishes
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