Mercenaries of Gor coc-21

by John Norman

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "But she has been with you, as I understand it," he said, turning to us, "and surely it is in your company that she came to Ar."

  "Yes," I said.

  "I thought perhaps it had been a joke on your part, something to amuse you, that you had let her enter here alone, first, before your arrival."

  "No," I said.

  "Nonetheless," he said, "surely some gratuity is in order, for abetting her return." "None is necessary," I said.

  We looked at her.

  She was still maintaining a position of slave beauty.

  "What do you think she will bring?" I asked.

  "The market is depressed," he said. "Much of it has to do with the rumored affairs at Torcadino, the purported advances of Cosians, the crowding in Ar, the influx of refugees. But I would think, even so, she might bring two silver tarsks."

  "A fine price for a girl," I said.

  "I think she will bring that, even in the current markets," he said.

  "I had not realized Boabissia was so valuable," said Hurtha.

  Boabissia glanced at Hurtha, startled.

  It is not unusual, of course, for a fellow to take a woman lightly, or for granted, until he learns of her interest to others, for example, what they are willing to pay for her.

  Boabissia looked away from Hurtha then, swiftly, not daring to meet his eyes. She reddened in a wave of heat and helplessness from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes.

  Similarly, it is not unusual for a fellow not to think of a given woman in a sexual manner, or as an object of extreme desire, but when he sees her stripped, and as a slave, that changes instantly and dramatically.

  "Please," she begged.

  "Be silent," I said.

  She was beautiful, and her life had changed. She must learn to endure slave scrutiny. Later she would perhaps learn to revel in it, brazenly.

  "I had thought," said the fellow, viewing her, "that the caravan had been a total loss. I see now that I was mistaken.

  She stood before us, viewed.

  "I lost a mere infant," he said. "I am returned a beautiful slave." She choked back a sob.

  "Some gratuity, or reward, is surely in order," he said.

  "None is necessary." I said.

  "But consider the savings I have effected on feed alone," he said. "Come now," I said. "Table scraps and slave gruel are not that expensive."

  "I insist," he said.

  "As you will," I said.

  Boabissia regarded me with horror.

  "You are more than generous," I said.

  "Indeed," said Hurtha, approvingly. In my palm lay a silver tarsk. I put it in my pouch. Boabissia moaned.

  He then reached to the small bell on his desk, and shook it, twice.

  "I assume," I said, "in the light of the special circumstances of her case, she is not to be treated as a runaway slave."

  "No," he said. "Or, certainly not at present, at least." Then he looked at the girl. "You do understand, however, do you not, my dear, the typical penalties for a runaway slave?"

  She nodded, numbly.

  "Excellent," he said.

  "If I may be so bold," I said, "I would advocate a certain modest latitude, at least for a day or two, in her initial training. You must understand that she has, for many years, regarded herself as a free woman."

  "Interesting," he said.

  "Too," I said, "not only has she regarded herself as a free woman, but she has behaved as one, and has affected the airs of one."

  "That is very serious, my dear," said the man.

  At that moment a lithe, sinewy fellow entered, doubtless in response to the sound of the bell a few moments earlier. He whose office it was gestured toward Boabissia. Her hands were drawn behind her, and braceleted behind her back. "But she did not understand she was not free, really," I said.

  Boabissia pulled against the bracelets, weakly.

  "She came here unveiled," said the man.

  "True," I said. "But the Alar women do not veil themselves."

  "She thought she was an Alar?" asked the man. "She was accustomed to thinking of herself in that way," I said. "But she should have known from her body she was not of the Alars," he said. "She is not a tall, strapping woman. Look at her. She is short, and luscious, and cuddly, and exquisitely feminine. That is the body of a woman of the cities or towns, and, if I may note the fact, it is a typical slave's body."

  "True," I said.

  "And what was her attitude toward female slaves?" he asked.

  "She held herself immeasurably superior to them," I said. "She despised them. She hated them, and held them in great contempt."

  "Quite appropriately," he said. "And how did she behave toward them." "With arrogance," I said, "and she enjoyed treating them with great cruelty." "I see," he said. "You may kneel, my dear."

  Boabissia knelt.

  "Did you never suspect, my dear," he asked, "that you were a slave?" "I did not dream I was imbonded," she whispered.

  "But you were," he said.

  "Yes," she said.

  "It is an interesting case," he said, "a female who has been a legal slave unwittingly since infancy, and has only now, in the past Ehn, discovered her true condition."

  "Yes," I said.

  "But I fear, my dear," he said, "that you have somewhat misinterpreted my question."

  She raised her head, regarding him, puzzled.

  "I asked if you had never suspected that you were a slave."

  She put down her head, reddening.

  "Answer," he said.

  "Are you speaking of legalities?" she asked, angrily.

  "I am speaking of something far deeper and more profound than legalities," he said. "I do not wish to answer that question," she said.

  "Speak," he said.

  "Yes," she said, "I have suspected it."

  "You have been a slave from the moment of conception," he said.

  She put down her head.

  "Split your knees," he said. "More widely."

  She complied. But then she looked up, half in defiance, half in tears.

  "Yes," he said, "from the moment of conception."

  She put down her head again, and sobbed.

  "Leash her," he said.

  The fellow who had come in, responding to the summons of the small bell, snapped one end of a long slave leash on Boabissia's throat. The leash is long to permit it being used in a variety of ways, for example, for binding the female or, looped, or loose, for giving her the encouragement of the whistling leather, or, if desired, the administration of more serious lash discipline. She looked up, frightened, knowing herself leashed, and on such a leash. Her eyes met those of the owner of the office.

  "You came here," he said, "seeking to find out who you were. I trust you now know. Similarly, you came here to find riches, to seek your fortune. I trust you are now satisfied with the riches you have found, slave bracelets and a leash, though, to be sure, they are not yours, and with your fortune, that which so avidly sought, which proves to be total bondage."

  "Please," she wept, suddenly. "I did not know!"

  "How demanding, how preemptory, and arrogant, and suspicious, you were," he mused.

  "I am sorry," she said. "Forgive me, I beg you!"

  "How insistent you were," he said.

  "Forgive me," she said.

  "How fearful you were," he said, "that you might not receive your dues, your just deserts."

  "Forgive me!" she begged.

  "Lift your head," he said. "Higher. Higher!" She looked up at him, her head far back, the leash on her throat. "I think I promised you that you would receive exactly what you deserved, exactly what you had coming."

  "Please," she said, trembling naked before a master.

  "You will receive exactly what you deserve," he said, "and then even more. And you will get, my dear, not only exactly what you have coming, but that, I assure you, and then a thousand times more."

  "Mercy, please," she
begged, in her helplessness.

  "And then," he said, "you will be sold."

  "Please, no," she wept.

  "It is amusing," he said, "that you held slaves in such great contempt, and treated them with such cruelty, for such is what you were all the time, and as such, revealed, in your full truth, you will now live."

  She sobbed, helplessly.

  "It is interesting," said the fellow, looking down at the distraught beauty, kneeling before us, almost beside herself with confusion and fear. "I have not seen this female since she was an infant. I remember tying the slave disk, with her number on it, about her tiny neck, opening her blankets that she might be exposed to me while doing so. Now, look at her, a beautifully developed, superbly desirable female slave."

  "She is indeed beautiful, and desirable," I said. I had never seen Boabissia look so lovely. To be sure, I had not before seen her truly was what she was, a slave. Slavery, putting a woman in her place in nature, returning her to where she belongs, considerably increases her beauty.

  "Who would of thought," he said, "that that infant I bought for only three tarsk bits would have grown into something this marvelous. I am sure that I will be able to get at least two silver tarsks for her."

  "Doubtless," I said.

  "An excellent investment," he said.

  "I agree," I said.

  "You need not now keep your head in high-harness position," he said to the girl. She moved her head. He stepped back a bit. She looked at him, frightened, his. "It has been a long time, my dear," he said, "but you are now home." She put down her head, sobbing. She had been returned to her master.

  "Stand," he said to her.

  She stood.

  "You know what to do with her," he said to the fellow who held her leash. "Yes," said the fellow.

  "Do it," he said.

  25 The Tunnels

  "Enter," said the woman.

  It was now in the evening of the day in which Boabissia had hurried into the house marked with the «Tau near the call rope. That Tau was the design, or trademark, of course, of Tenalion of Ar, one of the well-known slavers of the city. "Tau' is the first letter of the name "Tenalion'. I had recognized it immediately when I had seen it near the call rope. Indeed, it was identical with that on his place of business, which I had passed at various times when in Ar, a large, formidable structure located in the heart of Ar's slaving district, which housed various facilities pertinent to his trade, ranging from beautifully appointed sales room to discipline pits. I had also seen it at different times at the Sardar Fairs, at his display spaces.

  I had not met him personally, however, until today. He had entertained Hurtha and myself, sharing some fine paga with us, of the House of Temus, my favorite, after Boabissia had been removed from the room, presumably to be transported to his house of business. By now she was doubtless marked and collared, and chained somewhere there, presumably in the lower pens, as she was for most practical purposes a new girl. He seemed a very pleasant fellow. The Tau on Boabissia's disk had reminded me, I suppose, of his Tau. On the other hand, it had been different, and Tau's, as other letters of the Gorean alphabet, are used in various designs and for various purposes. I had not realized, of course, that the current design of Tenalion's Tau had been changed from an older one, that which had appeared on Boabissia's disk. "Enter," said the woman. "Enter the Tunnels," She was sitting on a stool outside.

  I lowered my head and entered through the small iron door, and began to descend a dimly lighted ramp to the interior. At the foot of the ramp there was another woman.

  "It is a tarsk bit," she said.

  I put a tarsk bit into the copper bowl on the small table near her. To the woman's right was a barred gate. It was now open. Such gates are common in such establishments. They are generally open when the business is open, and closed when the business is closed. On the other side of the threshold hung a heavy curtain of red velvet.

  The Tunnels was one of the slave brothels of Ludmilla, for whose establishments the street, the Alley of the Slave Brothels of Ludmilla, is named. She does not own all the brothels on the street, incidentally, nor the best of them, in my opinion, nor even the majority of them. It is only that several of them, five, to be exact, are owned by her, whereas no other entrepreneur owns more than two, this accounting apparently for the deprivation of the name. Her brothels, if it is of interest are the Chains of Gold, supposedly her best, costing at any rate a copper tarsk for admission, a common price for a paga tavern, and, all cheap tarsk-bit brothels, the Silken Cords, the Scarlet Whip, the Slave Racks and the Tunnels. On this street, too, of course, among many other sorts of establishments, such as shops and stalls, and smaller residences, are several insulae, among them the insula of Achiates.

  I moved to the curtain and brushed it aside.

  "Welcome," said a woman. "Welcome to the Tunnels."

  I stepped within, permitting the curtain to fall back behind me.

  "Come this way," she said.

  She was a large, strong woman, rather straight in body and coarse in feature. She was clad in brief leather. It was suggestive of that of a warrior. She wore armlets and bracelets. She carried a whip. Such is useful in keeping the slaves in line.

  "This way," she said.

  I followed her, threading my way among the small tables, and the mats, and the slave rings and clutching, moving, intertwined bodies, to a small table. I heard gasping, and a small cry of pain, and then a small cry of submission, and the movement of a chain on tiles. The room was crowded, but not too crowded. I heard conversation. Some musicians were playing in the half darkness. Some of these brothels are really not that much different from certain paga taverns. There, too, of course, girls go with the drinks, though dancers are commonly extra. The table was in the second row, or so, from the front of the room, where there was something of an open space. The musicians were on the right side of this, as I faced them. It was not easy to see at first. The room was illuminated, insofar as it was, with a soft, flickering, reddish light, the result of the flames of tiny tharlarion-oil lamps set in narrow red-glass enclosures on certain of the tables. In such a light, of course, interesting colorations, subtle, soft, constantly changing reddish hues, ranging, depending on the color of the glass and the mix of the lights, from dark, rose-colored pinks to creamy crimsons, are imparted to the flesh of white-skinned slaves. Too, there were many dark places and shadows. Some men are fond of privacy in such a place.

  "Is this satisfactory?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said, sitting down, cross-legged, behind the small table.

  "Oh!" said a woman, near me, half rearing up on a mat, and I saw her eyes, startled, for an instant, and that she was blond, and that her flesh appeared interesting in the light, and then she, the chain on her neck fastening her to the slave ring near the mat, was thrust back on the mat. "Oh, yes!" she cried. "Yes, Master!"

  "Are you he called Tarl, of Port Kar?" said the woman who had conducted me to my place.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "I was told to watch for such a person," she said.

  "Who told you?" I asked. I had come to the Tunnels in response to a message, delivered to me by Achiates, the owner of the insula in which Hurtha and I were rooming. He had, it seemed, if he were telling the truth, and I had no particular reason to doubt it, found the message thrust under his door. She looked about. "I do not see him here now," she said.

  "Are you this Tarl of Port Kar?"

  "I am called Bosk," I said.

  "Oh," she said. This information did not seem to make much difference to her, one way or the other. I watched her. She did not, as far as I could tell, glance at any particular person, nor in any particular direction. I detected nothing unusual. I did not think, in any case, she would be more than the conveyor of a message.

  I looked about. Various folks had entered after us. They, too, in their turns, were being seated. There were two or three hostesses, clad and accoutered similarly to mine.

  One fellow was carrying
a large sack over his shoulder. Even in the dim light certain curvatures seemed suggested within the sack. Too, there was a squirming within it which suggested that its occupant was bound. He was speaking to one of the hostesses.

  "What is that?" I asked my hostess.

  "It is a joke," she said. "He has captured a free female. We will put her stripped back in one of the tunnel alcoves. Her wrists will be braceleted behind her, chained to a slave ring. She will be unable to speak, being perfectly gagged. She will be left there in the darkness, helpless."

  "But she might be used," I said.

  "It is not impossible," she said. "It is a matter of chance. Access to her will be as unrestricted as that to a slave."

  "Do you approve of such things?" I asked.

  "If she is a feminine female," she said, "of course. Such belong to men." "It is a splendid joke," I said.

  "Yes," she said.

  "What is done with them later?" I asked.

  "Nothing," she said. "We just put them out naked in the back, in the morning. If they have been used, however, we tie their hands behind their back and, on a cord about their waist, suspend a punched tarsk bit on their belly."

  "Why would someone do this sort of thing to a free woman?" I asked.

  "Perhaps they found her displeasing in some way," she said, "and thought it might do her a bit of good, to discover something about what it is to be a female."

  "I see," I said.

  "There she goes," said the woman. "She is being taken into one of the tunnel alcoves now," There are small exits from the larger room, on the other side of the open space, that lead to various tunnels, off of which may be found cells and alcoves. From such tunnels the establishment, of course, derives its name. "Yes," I said. We watched the fellow crouch down and enter one of the small openings, the sack now, with its helpless, squirming occupant, dragging behind him. One cannot, on the whole, stand upright in the tunnels. Sometimes one must actually crawl.

  The musicians had now stopped playing.