For example, anthropoidal fossils can be found on Gor, as well as on Earth, and
so on. At any rate, Marcus found it much easier to believe that magic existed
than that his world was round, that it moved, and that there might be other
worlds rather like it here and there in the universe. In fact, in his
philosophy, so to speak, the universe was still of somewhat manageable
proportions. Sometimes I rather envied him.
“It is true,†I said. “I am originally from Earth.†Undoubtedly she had detected
my accent, as I had hers. To be sure there are many accents on Gor which are not
Earth accents. For example, not everyone on Gor speaks Gorean. There are many
languages spoken on Gor. For example, most of the red hunters of the north do
not speak Gorean, nor the red savages of the Barrens, nor the inhabitants of the
jungles east of Schendi.
“Strange, then, Master,†she said, “that we should meet in this reality, I, once
a woman of Earth, as now no more than a kneeling slave before you, once a man of
Earth.â€
“Do you find it unfitting?†I asked.
“No, Master,†she said.
“It is as it should have been on Earth,†I said.
“Yes, Master,†she said.
“But such considerations need not concern us,†I said. “They are in the past.
They belong to a different world. You are now of Gor, and only of Gor.â€
“Yes, Master,†she said. “But if I am not mistaken, it is not I alone who am now
no longer of Earth, not I alone who am now of Gor, and wholly so.â€
“Oh?†I said.
“It seems that we are both now of Gor, and wholly so.â€
“Yes,†I said. It was true.
“I as a slave,†she said, “and you as a master.â€
“Yes,†I said.
“I am not discontent,†she said.
I was silent.
“Of men who are Goreans, and such as Goreans,†she said, “women are the rightful
slaves!â€
“And is your master such?†I asked.
“Yes, Master!†she said.
“Are you happy?†I asked.
“Yes, Master!†she said. “I am happier than I ever knew a woman could be!â€
“But you are a slave?†I said.
“It is what I am!†she said.
(pg. 297) “Perhaps that is the explanation of your happiness,†I said.
“It is, Master!†she said.
“The collar looks well on your throat,†I said.
“It belongs there, Master!†she said. “All my life I was craving and desiring
total slavery, and now I have it!â€
“That is why you are so happy?†I said.
“Yes, Master!†she said.
“And has your master something to do with this?†I asked.
“Doubtless, Master,†she said. “He is the most wonderful of masters!â€
“But what if you had a harsh master, one cruel or unfeeling.â€
“I would still be a slave,†she said. “I would still love my condition. It is
what I am.â€
“I see,†I said.
Her knees squirmed a little.
“She is uneasy,†said Marcus.
“Yes,†I said.
“May I speak, Masters?†she asked.
“Yes,†said Marcus.
“I fear my master will wonder what has become of me,†she said.
“Do you fear you will be whipped?†asked Marcus.
“Yes, Master,†she said.
“You are not yet dismissed,†said Marcus.
“Yes, Master,†she said.
“Your tunic is still quite damp,†I said.
Her hands moved a little on her thighs, but she retained position.
I considered her slave curves, which would not in any event be well concealed by
rep-cloth, and certainly were not so now that it had been splashed with water,
even soaked by it.
“Tuka,†I said, “is a very common slave name.â€
“It is fitting for me, Master,†she said, “who am a common slave.â€
“What is your brand?†I asked.
“That of most girls,†she said, “the common Kajira mark. It is fitting, as I am
a common girl.â€
“You regard yourself as a common slave?†I asked.
“Yes, Master,†she said.
“Yet,†I said, “I think you would bring a good price, stripped, and on the
block.â€
“I would try to perform well,†she said.
“Tuka!†we heard. We looked up to the villa. From where we were, over the
white-washed wall, we could see the veranda of the main building, where it was
nestled back, in the side of a (pg. 298) hill. On the veranda there was a
well-built fellow, with dark hair.
The girl looked up at us, frightened, agonized.
“Your master?†I asked.
“Yes, Master!†she said.
She squirmed. She looked about. In the beauty there was great agitation.
Obviously she wished to rise up and run to her master, hurrying as she could.
Slave girls do not dally when their masters call. That call takes precedence, of
course, over a detention by strangers, but it is a rare girl who will simply
leap up, not dismissed, and flee from the presence of free men.
“You may go,†I said.
“Thank you, Master!†she cried, and leaped up. She was in such a hurry that she
sped past the basket of laundry a pace or two, but then, suddenly recollecting
it, hurried back, picked it up, and then, balancing it on her head with two
hands, sped through the gate of the villa and up the path to the house. The
fellow had, in the meantime, seeing her approach, withdrawn into the house. We
saw her on the veranda where she turned once, to look at us, then hurried
within.
“A superb slave,†said Marcus.
“Yes,†I said.
“I expect she will be cuffed a bit,†he said, “either for dallying or for
permitting herself to be seen so provocatively on the road, with a dampened
tunic.â€
“I expect you are right,†I said.
“To be sure,†said Marcus, “he will doubtless understand that she did not expect
to meet folks about, surely not at this Ahn, and that the tunic was dampened for
his benefit.â€
“He will presumably, if he pleases, take such matters into consideration,†I
said.
“By now she has probably been cuffed,†he said.
“I would suppose so,†I said.
“Or stripped and lashed,†he said.
“Perhaps,†I said.
“And now who knows to what lingering, pleasurable purposes she is being put?â€
“I do not know,†I said, “but it is my conjecture that she will serve well.â€
“I do not doubt it,†said Marcus.
I looked about, turning in the saddle of the tharlarion. “I see no one on the
; road,†I said. “let us now retrace our steps. By noon I wish to be southwest of
Ar, in the vicinity of the sul fields.
* * *
(pg. 299) “That is she,†I had whispered to Marcus.
“I am not sure I understand your plan,†he had said.
“Let us approach,†I had said.
The sun was now high overhead. It was much hotter here, in this area, and at
this time of day, than it had been earlier in the villa districts, in the hills
northeast of Ar, the Fulvians, foothills to the Voltai.
In the softness of the dust, then among the vines, moving across the field, our
tharlarion in stately gait, we approached the girl, she at the large wooden
tank, filling the vessels which would be slung over her yoke. She wore a brief,
brown rag, perhaps from some other girl who had been given something better. Her
hair had been cropped rather closely to her head, as is not uncommon with field
slaves. She was barefoot and her feet and calves were white with dust. She
lifted the large vessel from the tank with both hands, and then, her head down
for a moment, rested it on the rim of the tank. She then, after a time,
carefully, slowly, lowered it to the ground. It would not do to spill the water.
She moved slowly, as though her body might be stiff and sore. I conjectured that
her muscles ached. She was not accustomed, I supposed, to such labor.
As it was shortly before noon the shadows were small, and behind us, but she
heard the movement of the feet of the tharlarion in the dirt behind her and spun
about, frightened, immediately kneeling, putting her head to the dirt.
We halted the beasts some feet from her. She trembled. It would have done her no
good, of course, to have run, even would it have been permitted that she do so.
She could have been easily overtaken or ridden down, even trampled. It would not
have been difficult to head off or turn her back, or to have her between us in
sport, like some object in a game, a terrified, confused quarry, buffeted, or
struck to the ground, again and again, until perhaps she lay quietly in the
dust, trembling, and the tharlarion would come and gently, firmly, place its
great clawed foot on her back, holding her in place for our binding fiber. Also,
had we been slavers, she might, in her hasty flight, as we overtook her, have
been roped or netted. In the south, the Wagon Peoples sometimes use the bola in
such captures, the cords and weights, whipping about the girls legs and ankles,
pinning them together, hurling her to the ground, where, in an instant, before
she can free herself, the captor, leaping from the saddle, is upon her.
I let her remain in her current posture for a time. It is a good for a master to
be patient. Let the girl well understand the meaning of such things.
(pg. 300) “You may look up,†I said.
She kept her head low, but turned it, looking up at us. Her hair was light
brown, much lighter than that of the girl we had encountered to the north, in
the Fulvian hills. That girl’s hair had been very dark. I remembered it from the
camp outside Ar long ago. This morning, as we had seen it, freshly washed, and
still wet, it had seemed almost a glossy black. They were, as I have mentioned,
similarly bodied. This girl, however, I would have supposed, was not a dancer.
To be sure, she could undoubtedly be trained as such. As the female by nature
has feminine dispositions, needs, instincts and aptitudes, such things being
genetically coded within her, functions of her behavioral genetics, as opposed
to her property genetics, controlling such matters as eye and hair color, there
is a template, or readiness, for self-surrender, service, sensuousness and love
within her. These are, of course, familiar aspects of the female slave.
Accordingly the readiness for, and the aptitude for, slave dance, so intimately
associated with beauty and sexuality, displaying the female in her
marvelousness, excitingness and need, scarcely need be noted. These things,
incidentally, fit into a harmonious physical and psychological dimorphism of the
sexes, in which the male, unless reduced, denied or crippled, is dominant. This
sexual dimorphism and the dominance/submission equations do not require
institutionalized slavery. It is only that that institution is an expression
within the context of a natural civilization of certain primal biotruths. In
this sense of civilization need not be the antithesis of nature but can
represent its natural enhancement and flowering.
“Kneel straight,†I said.
She knelt then with her back straight, and looked up at us.
I stared down at her, at her knees, not speaking.
She put her head down, quickly, and spread her knees more widely. They made two
small furrows in the dust, and there was now a ridge of dust on the outside of
each knee. Did she not know how to kneel before men?
She looked up again, and then lowered her head again, spreading her knees even
more widely.
She looked up again, frightened, anxiously, seeking my eyes. Then she shuddered,
in relief. Her position now acceptable.
Her skin was burned from the sun. It was red and rough, peeling. In places it
was cracked from the heat and mud.
I glanced to the two vessels, to the side, now filled with water, and the
associated yoke, thrice drilled, with slender leather straps wrapped about it,
at the center and near the ends. The wooden vessels would be heavy in themselves
for (pg. 301) such a small, lovely creature, let alone when weighted with a
filling of liquid. She, too, following my eyes, regarded these things. “Your
labors seem arduous,†I said.
“It is as my master pleases,†she said, looking up at me once more.
“And your day is long?†I said.
“As my master pleases,†she said.
“You are a field slave,†I said.
“Yes, Master,†she said.
“And that, too,†I said, “is as your master pleases.â€
“Yes, Master,†she said, “that, too, is as my master pleases.â€
“Your hair has been cropped, as is not unusual for a field slave,†I said.
“That it might be sold, Master,†she said.
“But doubtless it will grow again,†I said.
“Yes, Master,†she said.
“And it may then be again shorn,†I said.
Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Verr are shorn,†I said, “and so, too, is the bounding hurt.â€
“Of course, Master,†she said.
“Do you object?†I asked
She sobbed.
“Your head could have been shaved,†I said.
She looked up at me. I gathered she had not thought about that.
“Are you not grateful your head was not shaved?†I asked.
“—Yes, Master,†she said.
“Say it,†I said.
“I am grateful that my head was not shaved,†she said.
Whereas a girl’s hair might be cropped, just as her head might be shaved, as a
punishment, such a punishment would be quite unusual. After all, the master
commonly delights in the long lovely hair of a slave. Indeed, in most cities,
long hair is almost universal with slaves. There are many things that can be
done with such hair. not only can it please the master by its beauty and feel,
but it can serve to secure the slave, to gag her, and so on. The major reason
for cropping the hair of field slaves, both male and female, and certain other
forms of work slaves, it to protect them from parasites. For a similar reason
the bodies of the women transported on slave ships are almost always shaved,
completely. Even then it is common, shortly after debarkation, and this is
required by the rules of many port authorities, to subject them to an immersion
in slave dip.
“Whose fields are there?†I asked, looking about.
“The fields of my master, Appanius,†she said.
(pg. 302) “He is a rich man?†I asked.
“Yes, Master,†she said.
“And he has many girls,†I asked.
“Yes, Master,†she said.
“He must have a great many girls,†I said.
She looked up at me.
She had a common black, strap collar on her neck, no more, really, than a strip
or plate of black iron. It was riveted shut, behind the back of her neck. I had
noted this earlier, given the shortness of her hair, and her earlier position,
facing away from us as she drew water. The legend would probably be a single
one, not even containing the girl’s name, probably something like “I am the
property of Appanius.â€
“That a woman such as you is in the field,†I said.
Tears coursed down her cheeks.
“Keep your knees spread,†I warned her.
Swiftly she once more increased the angle between her knees.
She certainly did not seem to me a field slave. Rather she seemed to me the sort
of woman one would have expected to find in a house, hurrying about barefoot on
the tiles, one ankle perhaps belled, in a bit of silk, serving, a small,
luscious woman, well curved, smooth-skinned, and soft, her body perfumed for the
pleasure of men, the sort of woman one keeps in mind, the sort of woman who is
difficult to forget, the sort whom one might wish to keep close by, perhaps
keeping her at night at the foot of one’s couch, on her chain.â€
“What is your name?†I asked.
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