Norman, John - Gor 25 - Magicians of Gor.txt

Norman, John - Gor 25 - Magicians of Gor.txt Page 62

by Magicians of Gor [lit]

  disrobing before her master. Another use is when the slave desires to surprise

  her master with her beauty, (pg. 417) perhaps before begging use. She might then

  utilize a particular moment to disrobe, perhaps one in which he has merely

  turned away. When he turns back, she is naked. She then kneels before him.

  “Ah!” said Marcus. “What a shame!”

  “What is a shame?” I asked.

  “The poor fellow will have almost no time with her,” he said.

  “Yes,” I said. “Here, if I am not mistaken, come Appanius, and he has men with

  him.”

  “You will approach him?” asked Marcus.

  “Certainly,” I said.

  “Hold!” I said, angrily, stepping forth. “Are you Appanius, he of well-known

  house of Appanius?”

  “Who are you?” said he, angrily.

  “By my armband, you see I have authority to stop you,” I said, not pleasantly.

  Both Marcus and I, of course, as we usually did, wore our armbands, signifying

  our status as auxiliary guardsmen. A major advantage of this, of course, is that

  it entitled us to go abroad openly armed.

  Appanius lifted his staff, angrily.

  I took no note of the raised staff. I could, of course, at that point, have

  killed him. They, too, carried staffs. Other than this, however, in accord with

  the weapons laws, they were not armed. Two also carried chains.

  “You have been questioned,” I reminded Appanius.

  He lowered his staff, angrily. “Yes,” he said, “I am Appanius, of that house,

  best known for his agricultural enterprises.”

  “Do you own a disobedient, wayward slave?” I asked.

  “I do not understand,” he said.

  “I have a little slut named Lavinia,” I said.

  “Lavinia!” he cried, in fury.

  “Recently purchased,” I said.

  “The lewd little baggage!” he said.

  “A fellow, whom I gather from others is your slave,” I said, “had apparently

  seduced her.”

  “Impossible!” he said.

  “You know this Lavinia?” I asked.

  “I am sure it is the one!” he said. “I should have sold her out of the city as a

  pot girl months ago!”

  “They have apparently been seeing one another,” I said. That was true enough, of

  course, as Lavinia, in the garment resembling that of a state slave, and in what

  seemed to be a state collar, had been in contact several times with the slave,

  (pg. 418) carrying verbal messages, and arranging the details of the putative

  assignation of this morning. Too, of course, she had been similarly in contact

  with the Ubara, only in that role, of course, in a collar purporting to be that

  of the house of Appanius.

  “I cannot believe that!” said Appanius, angrily.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “You!” he cried. “It was you who sent me the message of this morning?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I have followed him. They meet somewhere around here. I am not

  sure where.”

  “If that is true,” cried Appanius, “I know where!”

  “Your slave should be disciplined,” I said.

  “It is your slave who should be disciplined!” he said. “Mine is innocent!”

  “Mine is only a female slave,” I said.

  “Only a female slave! Only a female slave!” he exclaimed. “That is exactly it!

  She is a female slave! They are all the same. They are have hot little bellies

  and can’t help themselves. They are always licking and kissing and begging! And

  that Lavinia is one of the worst! She is a seductrix, I tell you. They are all

  seductrices!”

  “I have heard that it is your slave who is a seduction slave!” I said.

  “Who has said that?” he cried.

  “I have heard it said secretly in the city,” I said.

  “It is false!” he said. “False!”

  “Nonetheless,” I said, “it is your slave who is at fault.”

  “No,” he said. “I know your Lavinia. It is she, the lewd little baggage, who is

  at fault!”

  “She is only a female,” I said.

  “But a female slave!” he said. “Whip them and chain them, I say! Keep them in

  the kitchens and laundries, in the fields, put to labors as is fit for the

  little beasts! Keep them from honest men! Let honest men be protected!”

  “At any rate,” I said, “it seems they have been seeing on another.”

  “It cannot be!” he said.

  “Your slave, it seems, has been carrying on a shameless affair with her.”

  “That cannot be,” he said.

  “I have seen them,” I said. “He is a big, handsome fellow. Why could it not be?”

  “He would not betray me!” he said.

  “I do not understand,” I said.

  “I trust your little slut is on slave wine,” he said.

  (pg. 419) “Of course,” I said. “I have not chosen, at least as yet, to have her

  mated.”

  “You should keep her shackled,” she said.

  “To protect her from your slaves,” I asked.

  “Do you know who my slave is?” he asked.

  “He is known in Ar?” I asked.

  “Somewhat,” said Appanius.

  “I am not from Ar,” I said.

  “I gathered that,” he said. “Were you from Ar you would know that a slave of my

  slave’s quality could not be interested in the least in a meaningless little pot

  girl.”

  “You are sure of it?” I asked.

  “Certainly,” he said.

  “Yet you have come here, with men,” I said.

  “That his innocence may be proved,” he said.

  “Is that why your men carry staffs and chains?” I asked.

  “You are an insolent, surly fellow!” he cried.

  “Beware, Appanius,” said one of his retainers. “He is of the police.”

  “We could make a clear determination on this matter,” I said, “if we could only

  locate them.”

  “You do not know where your slave is,” he said, scornfully.

  “How should I know where she is?” I asked.

  “If you kept her at home in close chains, so she could hardly wriggles, and

  fastened to a ring, you would know,” he said.

  “And so, too,” said I, “you would know the location of yours, if you had kept

  him in his cell!”

  “It was your mistake,” he said, “to let a slut like Lavinia off her chain!”

  “What of you,” I asked, “letting your fellow wander about Ar like a vulo cock?”

  “My slave is innocent, honest and trustworthy!” he cried.

  “And that is why you have brought men, and staffs and chains?” I asked.

  “Sleen!” cried Appanius.

  “Caution, Appanius,” said one of his retainers. He was not unaware,
as

  apparently was his employer, of Marcus, behind them, his hand on his sword.

  Marcus, I conjectured, could probably cut through the neck vertebrae of two of

  them before they could break. Also he could probably apprehend at least one of

  them, assuming they started off in different directions, as would be in their

  best interest. I, on the other hand, might hope to catch up to the other one,

  after dropping Appanius where he stood. If I had had to wager on the matter I

  did not (pg. 420) think any of them would escape. The staff, except in the hands

  of an expert, is not a weapon to put against the blade.

  “At any rate,” I said, “I trailed Lavinia to this area, and I saw your slave

  about, too, and then, somehow, it seemed they disappeared.”

  “You did not actually see them together?” he asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Then they are not together!” he said.

  “I am sure they are together,” I said.

  “No!” he said.

  “It seems both just disappeared.” I said.

  “Do you not think they might be, separately, of course, in nearby buildings?”

  asked Appanius.

  “How could that be?” I asked. “Slaves do not just walk into buildings without

  some business there. Too, folks do not just welcome strange slaves into their

  houses, greeting them and inviting them to share their kettles. And I would

  assume they had no money to bribe free persons for a room, for their clandestine

  rendezvous. Certainly Lavinia had no money.”

  “Have you counted your coins lately?” asked Appanius.

  “Have you counted yours?” I asked.

  “My slave has spending money,” he said.

  “Then they could be anywhere.” I said, angrily.

  “No,” he said. “He is too well known.”

  “Where then?” I asked.

  “There is only one place!” he said.

  His retainers exchanged glances, and nodded.

  “Where is that?” I asked. To be sure, we were within ten yards of it, though of

  its front entrance, not its side or back entrance.

  “That is,” said Appanius, “there is only one place where my slave might be. I do

  not know where your slave is. She, the baggage, the chit, the tart, the wench,

  the use girl, might be slutting about anywhere, clutching at someone in a

  doorway, writhing on a discarded mat, squirming in an alley behind garbage

  containers, moaning in a dark corridor, who knows?”

  “I wager,” said I, “that if we locate your slave we will also locate mine.”

  “I know where mine would be,” said Appanius, defensively. “He has gone to a

  place where he may study his lines in privacy.”

  “His lines?” I asked.

  “He is an actor,” said Appanius.

  “Well,” I said, “if he is currently studying lines, I have little doubt that

  they are those of my Lavinia.”

  (pg. 421) “Sleen!” said Appanius. The fellows with him shifted, restlessly. Two

  of them glanced back uneasily at Marcus, much as they might have at a larl

  behind them.

  “I think they are together,” I said.

  “No!” said Appanius. “That could not be!”

  I shrugged.

  “Follow me!” he said. He started for the street entrance of the room.

  I trusted that Lavinia would have time to throw off her cloak and get at the

  disrobing loop on her tunic before the door could be opened. She could then

  fling her arms about the slave, protesting her love, and such. I hoped she could

  manage to do this believingly.

  At the street entrance of the room, however, Appanius stopped. It seemed he was

  considering something. “Open it,” I said, “if this is the place.” I certainly

  did not want them sneaking about to the rear or side entrance and coming on the

  two slaves without warning. That would not give Lavinia time to disrobe. If they

  were found yards apart, fully clothed, engaged in exchanging comments on the

  state of the theater in Ar under Cos, or something, I might as well forget my

  plans. I strode to the door, and raised my fist, to pound on it, and then, an

  Ihn or two later, I would kick it in.

  “No,” whispered Appanius, seizing my hand. We then, I rather disgruntled,

  stepped back a little, a few feet from the door.

  “Yes, Appanius,” said one of his retainers. “It would be better to go around the

  back. In this fashion one may observe through the observation portals the front

  room.”

  “Observation portals?” I said.

  “Thus,” confirmed the retainer, softly, suavely, “one need not disturb him while

  he is reading his lines, as he undoubtedly is, and, more importantly, he will

  never know of our coming and going. Thus, he will never suspect that you might

  have been jealous, or ever suspected him of any unwonted treachery.”

  “Jealous?” I asked. “Treachery?”

  “My thoughts, exactly,” said Appanius. The retainer, I saw, was not only a

  retainer, but an able courtier. Those fellows have a talent for telling

  important people what they wish to hear. To be sure, such fellows have

  occasionally been responsible for the downfall of Ubars, and themselves, because

  of their desire to protect the throne from unwelcome truths. Serenity has

  reigned in more than one royal residence while a country’s borders crumbled. I

  myself, however, was about ready to strike the fellow. I was plunged into

  despair.

  (pg. 422) “Come with me,” said Appanius. “Move quietly.”

  “Of course,” I said, through gritted teeth.

  I glanced at Marcus.

  He smiled.

  This made me angry. Did he not realize that my plans might now, in a moment, be

  destroyed?

  I turned back, to pound on the door, but he took me firmly by the arm and we

  followed Appanius and his retainers back down the street, until we turned left,

  and made our way through an opening between two buildings.

  25 Bracelets and Shackles

  “So,” shrieked Appanius, “this is how you betray me!”

  Lavinia had screamed when the net had descended, and the slave with her had

  cried out in dismay.

  An instant or so before I had seen the face of Appanius grow livid with rage at

  the observation portal and he had seized at the wooden lever and thrown it,

  dropping the net with its weights over the couch. Almost at the same time,

  weeping with misery and rage, he had rushed into the front room, his staff

  raised, followed by his four retainers, all seemingly sharing their employer’s

  wrath and indignation, as befitted such fellows. I myself had not had an

  opportunity, nor had Marcus, of utilizing the observation portals, of which

  there were two, the first of which had been commanded by Appanius, and the

  second by his chief retainer. I had not, accordingly, been able to see what was

  going on in the front room.

  Almost instantly however I, Marcus behind me, had rus
hed to the front room.

  There clinging together, terrified, helpless, entrapped in the toils of the net,

  threatened by the staffs of Appanius and his retainers, were the slave and

  Lavinia.

  “Treacherous, treacherous slave!” wept Appanius.

  I saw the two slaves within the heavy toils of the net, the reticulated pattern

  of cords close about them. He kept his arms about her. Both were naked.

  “Treacherous slave!” screamed Appanius.

  Marcus looked at me, and grinned. He was not surprised at this. I, on the other

  hand, was. It had been my anticipation that Lavinia would have to do all this by

  herself, get her clothing off (pg. 423) and cling to him, presumably by the

  door, he fully clothed, and hope to convince Appanius that their presence

  together was by mutual arrangement, and indicative of mutual interest and

  desire. On the other hand, I found her in the center of the room, on the couch

  itself, in his arms. Saving for being on a couch instead of on furs on the floor

  she might have been any alcove slut in a paga tavern. The short cloak and tunic

  had been hastily removed. The cloak had apparently been slipped off, and dropped

  behind her, to reveal her shoulders and tunic. The position of her tunic

  suggested she had dropped it, doubtless by means of the disrobing loop, about

  her ankles, and then stepped from it. I suspected she had then entered his arms,

  and that he had then, a little later, lifted her up and carried her to the

  couch.

  “You have betrayed me!” wept Appanius.

  Marcus looked at me, puzzled. I shrugged. If I had been wrong about one thing,

  it seemed to me only fair if Marcus might be wrong about another.

  “Traitorous slave!” wept Appanius.

  Lavinia’s body was a mass of contradictory colorations. Appanius but moments

  before it had been red with excitement, love and yielding, and had then, in the

  sudden surprise and shame of her discovery, flushed scarlet, blushing literally

  from head to tow, and then, almost instantly later, in the tumult, had begun in

  terror to drain of color, she suddenly realizing that she was now a discovered

  slave, a vulnerable, caught girl, apprehended in a situation of great compromise

  by a man such as Appanius, her former master. Once before, as I understood it,

  for so little as timidly touching a certain slave she had been sent to the

 

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