by John Norman
“You seem rich and educated,” I said.
“I am both,” she said. “I am of the high merchants.”
“I, too, was of the merchants,” said Constance.
“Be silent, Slave Girl,” snapped the free woman.
“Yes, Mistress,” stammered Constance. She placed a branch upon the fire. She withdrew. She was new to her collar.
The free woman glared at the man who had captured her. “Free me, now!” she said.
He looked at her, fingering the knife he had taken from her.
The free woman squirmed in her bonds, frightened. She looked at me. “You are free,” she said, “protect me!”
“What is your Home Stone?” I asked.
“That of Lydius,” she said.
“I do not share it,” I said.
The man crouched near her. His hand was behind her neck, holding her. The point of the dagger was in her belly.
“I free you! I free you!” she said.
“Have some meat,” I said to him. I had been roasting some bosk over the small fire.
He, now a free man, came and sat near me, across the fire from me. The free woman shrank back, in the shadows. Constance knelt behind me and to my left, making herself unobtrusive. Occasionally she fed the fire.
The free man and I fed. “What is your name?” I asked. I threw a hit of meat to Constance, which she snatched up and ate.
“Ram,” said he, “once of Teletus, but friendless now in that island, one banished.”
“Your crime?” I asked.
“In a tavern,” he said, “I slew two men in a brawl.”
“They are strict in Teletus,” I said.
“One of them stood high in the administration of the island,” he said.
“I see,” I said.
“I have been in many cities,” he said.
“How do you work your living?” I asked. “Are you a bandit?”
“No,” said he. “I am a trader. I trade north of Ax Glacier for the furs of sleen, the pelts of leem and larts.”
“A lonely work,” I said.
“I have no Home Stone,” he shrugged.
I pitied him.
“How is it,” I asked, “that you fell slave?”
“The hide bandits,” he said.
“I do not understand,” I said.
“They have closed the country north of Ax Glacier,” he said.
“How can this be?” I asked.
“Tarnsmen, on patrol,” said he. “I was seized and, though free, sold south as a slave.”
“Why should these men wish to close off the north?” I asked.
“I do not know,” he said.
“Tarns cannot live at that latitude,” I said.
“In the summer they can,” said he. “Indeed, thousands of birds migrate each spring to the nesting cliffs of the polar basin.”
“Not tarns,” I said.
“No,” said he. “Not tarns.” Tarns were not migratory birds.
“Surely men can slip through these patrols,” I said.
“Doubtless some do,” he said.
“You were not so fortunate,” I said.
“I did not even know they came as enemies,” he laughed. “I welcomed them. Then I was shackled.” He chewed on a piece of meat, then swallowed it. “I was sold at Lydius,” he said. He looked up, again chewing, at the free woman. “I was bought there by this high lady,” he said. He swallowed down the meat.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked.
“I can think of many things,” he said, regarding her.
“It would be simple to untie her ankles,” I said.
“Do not touch me!” she said. “I am free.”
“Perhaps you are a slave,” he said.
“No,” she said. “No! I am free!”
“We shall see,” he said.
“I do not understand,” she said.
He turned away from her, wiping his hands on his thighs. He went over to the edge of the pond, and, kneeling down beside the water, drank. When he got up he looked at the tracks there. When he returned, he smiled. “My thanks,” said he.
I nodded.
I scanned the skies for the tarn. Game must indeed be scarce, I thought.
Constance put more wood on the fire. She glanced at the Lady Tina.
“Do not look at me, Slave!” hissed the Lady Tina.
“Forgive me, Mistress,” said Constance. She looked away, frightened. She did not wish to be beaten.
“Sir,” said the free woman, addressing her captor, Ram, once of Teletus.
“Yes,” he said.
“My modesty is offended,” she said. “I find it disagreeable to be unclothed before a slut of a slave who is not even my personal maid.”
“In the morning,” said he, “you will be partially clothed.” She looked at him, puzzled.
“May I command your girl,” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Constance,” said he.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Look well and carefully upon our prisoner,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
The free woman turned her head away, in fury.
“Do you think,” he asked, “that she might make a pretty slave.”
“I am not a man, Master,” said Constance, “but I should think she might make even a beautiful slave.”
“Please!” protested the free woman.
“Look upon her when and as you wish,” said Ram.
“Yes, Master,” smiled Constance. I saw her make a tiny face at the Lady Tina.
“Oh!” cried the Lady Tina, in fury, squirming in the leather.
“What do you think?” asked Ram of me.
“She squirms well,” I said. “I think she is excellent meat for marking.”
“I hate you all!” said the Lady Tina. “And I will never be a slave! You cannot make me a slave! Never, never will I be a slave. No man can make me a slave!”
“I shall not even try,” said Ram.
She looked at him, startled.
“I shall not make you my slave,” he said. “unless you beg to be my slave.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “I would die first,” she said.
“It is late now,” I said. “I think we should sleep.”
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Tarl,” said I. “Let that suffice.”
“Accepted,” he said, smiling. He would not pry further into my affairs. Doubtless he assumed I was bandit, fugitive or assassin.
I took Constance by the arm, and threw her to his feet. It was a simple act of Gorean courtesy.
Constance looked at me, wildly.
“Please him,” I said.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
“Yes, slut,” called the free woman. “Please him! Please him well, you stinking little slave!”
“My thanks, my friend,” said the fellow once from Teletus. He took Constance by the arm to one side and threw her on the grass beneath him.
In a few Ehn she crept to my side in the furs, shuddering. He was asleep.
I looked over at the free woman. She was struggling in the narrow leather which confined her. But she would be unable to free herself. She had watched in fury, and, I think, ill-concealed envy at the rapine which had been worked upon Constance.
I, in the light of the subsiding fire, watched the Lady Tina fight weeping with her bonds.
He had said that in the morning he would partially clothe her. I had not understood this.
I observed her struggling. I thought she would look well in a slave collar. Then I went to sleep.
“Hear it?” I asked.
It was early morning. Ram sat upright in the grass. I stood near the tam, which had returned in the night, its beak smeared with blood and the hairs from the small yellow tabuk, of the sort which frequent Ka-la-na thickets. I cleaned its beak and talons with dried grass. I had already saddled the beast.
Constance lay to one side, curled in the furs. The free woman, the Lady Tina of Lydius, too, slept, lying on her side, exhausted from her struggles of the night. The sky was overcast, and gray.
“Yes,” he said. “Sleen.”
We could hear their squealing in the distance. There must have been four or five of the beasts.
“Master?” asked Constance, rubbing her eyes.
“It is sleen, in the distance,” I said. “Get out of the furs, lazy girl.”
She was frightened.
“We have time,” I said.
“What weight can the tarn carry?” asked Ram.
“It is strong,” I said. “It can carry, if need be, a rider and freighted tarn basket.”
“Might I then request passage?” he smiled.
“It is yours,” I said.
I rolled the furs in which Constance had lain, and put them across the back of the saddle, fastening the two straps which held them.
We could hear the sleen cries quite clearly now. I do not think they were more than a pasang away.
“This ring,” I said to Ram, pointing to a ring at the left of the saddle, “will be yours.”
“Excellent,” he said.
“Come here, Constance,” I said.
“Yes, Master,” she said, running to me.
“Awaken, Lady Tina,” I heard Ram say. He was bending near her.
“Cross your wrists before your body,” I said to Constance. She did so and I lashed them together. I then carried her to the right side of the saddle and placed her left foot in a ring there, which I had wrapped with fur. Her tied wrists I looped over the pommel.
I, standing in the stirrup, looked over the fields. There were five sleen. They were about a half of a pasang away, excited, squealing, their snouts hurrying at the turf.
“I have an extra tunic here,” I said to Ram, throwing it to him.
“What are you doing?” demanded the Lady Tina.
He had taken the rags he had worn about his hips and was, with what had been her dagger, punching holes in them. Through these holes he threaded a strip of her belt. He knotted the rags about her hips. Because of the lovely flare of her hips, the smallness of her waist, the sweet, exciting swelling of her breasts, she would be unable, her hands tied behind her, to pull or scrape the garment from her.
“Is your modesty less offended now?” he asked. He slipped on the tunic which I had thrown him.
“What is that sound I hear?” she asked.
“Sleen,” he said.
“I do not understand,” she said, tremulously.
He cut the leather strips which had bound her ankles. “You will now be able to run,” he said.
“I do not understand,” she said.
“You soon will,” he said.
I climbed to the saddle. Ram placed his left foot in the ring which I had designated and looped his left arm about the pommel of the saddle.
She struggled to her feet. “Where are you going?” she cried.
“To Lydius, Lady Tina,” I informed her. I had not originally intended to go to Lydius, but I had acquired a girl in the fields. She was not yet branded. I would have her marked in Lydius.
The sleen were now within a few hundred yards of the tarn. I took the tarn straps in my left hand, the one-strap in my right.
Their squealing was loud. I could see them moving swiftly toward us.
Suddenly Lady Tina went white. “Oh, no! No!” she cried. She tried with her bound wrists to tear away the rags which she wore but they, because of the knotted belt strip, were perfectly fastened upon her.
“No!” she screamed.
The rags she wore, of course, were rich and heavy with the scent of him who had been her quarry. Such rags would have been used to put the sleen on his track.
“No!” she screamed. “No! They will tear me to pieces!”
The sleen were now no more than two hundred yards away. The squealing was wild now, as they caught sight of the bound girl in the field.
“They will tear me to pieces!” she wept.
“Run, Lady Tina,” suggested Ram.
“They will tear me to pieces!” she wept, screaming.
“It is the same chance,” said he, “which I in your place would have had.”
The five sleen stopped now, tails thrashing, crouched down, shoulders high, heads low, eyes blazing. They were some fifty yards from the girl. Their nostrils were flared, their ears laid back against the sides of their broad, triangular heads. I saw the tongue of one darting in and out.
They crept forward, there must be no mistake of losing the prey.
The girl turned and fled, bound, the rag on her hips to the legs of the tarn. She knelt in the grass. She looked up, her eyes wild.
“Take me with you!” she wept.
“There is no room for free women here,” said Ram.
“But I am a slave!” she cried.
“Are you a natural slave?” asked Ram.
“Yes, yes,” she wept. “I have known for years in my heart that I was truly a slave. I lack only the brand and collar!”
“Interesting,” said Ram.
“Make me your slave!” she wept.
“But perhaps,” said he, “I do not want you.”
“Want me! Want me!” she begged.
“Do you acknowledge yourself a true slave?” asked Ram.
“Yes, yes!” she cried.
“Do you beg to be my slave?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” she said, on her knees.
“Then beg,” said he.
“I beg to be your slave, Master,” she said.
The sleen charged. Ram, with his left hand on the tarn harness, managed to get his right hand on her arm. The tarn, given the sudden force on the one-strap, reared and, smiting the air with his mighty wings, lifted itself into the air. The girl screamed, dangling. One of the sleen leaped more than twenty feet into the air, tearing at her, but fell back to the turf, twisting, squealing. She who had been the Lady Tina was held safe in the arms of Ram, her master. He freed her hands that she might hold to him. With his knife he cut the rags from her hips and we watched them fall among the angry sleen who tore them to pieces.
“It seems we have a new slave girl,” said Constance.
She who had been the Lady Tina looked at her with fear.
“Yes,” I said.
I turned the head of the tarn toward Lydius.
“We are flying in the direction of Lydius, Master,” said Constance, her hair lifted by the wind.
“We shall stop there for a time,” I said. “I acquired a girl in the fields. She has not yet been branded. It is my intention to have her marked.”
She turned white.
“Did you expect to escape the brand?” I asked.
“No, Master,” she said. She, Gorean, knew well that slave girls are marked.
She was silent.
I would let her anticipate the iron.
“I, too, acquired a girl in the fields,” said Ram. “I may, in Lydius, as well, see that her thigh is clearly marked, that identifying her as what she is, a slave.”
I looked at the naked girl clinging fearfully, helplessly to Ram. “She is so beautiful,” I said, “there could be little doubt in anyone’s mind that she is a slave, whether she is branded or not.”
“She is comely,” admitted Ram. “But I will nonetheless have her incontrovertibly marked.”
“The mark will improve her beauty,” I said, “making it doubly desirable.”
“True,” said Ram, “perhaps even infinitely more desirable.”
“Perhaps,” I said. It was true that a brand incredibly enhanced the beauty of a female. Some women did not know what male lust was, until they became slaves, and found themselves, suddenly, vulnerably exposed to its full predations.
She who moments before had been free held to Ram, her master, clutching him, desperately, that she might not fall.
I let her hold to Ram for a while; then I said to her, “Extend your wris
ts to me, crossed.”
“I will fall,” she wept.
“If your master pleases,” I said, “he will hold you.”
“Hold me, Master,” she wept. “I beg you!’
“Perhaps,” he said.
She extended her wrists to me, crossed. I lashed them together with binding fiber.
She knew that it was only her master’s hands on her which prevented her from failing to the ground, hundreds of feet below. She depended on him totally for her life, that he would hold her.
Then her hands were bound, and I drew her up and over the saddle. I then lifted up Constance’s arms and thrust the new slave’s tied wrists over the pommel, then placed Constance’s bound wrists over hers.
The load was thus balanced on the tarn, the weight of the two beauties on one side, that of Ram on the other.
I had placed Constance’s bound wrists over those of the new slave for Constance was first girl. She would be first to be lifted from the pommel.
“You are first girl,” I told Constance.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Constance is first girl,” I told her who had been the Lady Tina of Lydius.
“Yes, Master,” said she who had been the Lady Tina of Lydius.
“Address her as Mistress,” I told the former free girl. “Mistress,” said she who had been the former Lady Tina of Lydius, frightened, to Constance.
“Slave,” responded Constance to her confirming the former free woman as second girl.
“Now, on to Lydius!” I said.
“Yes, Master,” said the two girls, the blond and the brunet, first girl and second girl, yet both really new slaves, neither of whom had as yet even been branded.
7. I Am Careless In Lydius: I Am Taken Captive
I kicked in the door. It splintered inward. I was through the door, sword drawn.
The man at the desk leaped up.
“Where is Bertram of Lydius?” I asked.
“I am he,” said the man, in fur jacket. “What do you want? Are you an assassin? You do not wear the dagger. What have I done?”
I laughed. “You are not the man I seek,” I said. “One in the south who meant me harm, who seemed a sleen master, had assumed your identity. I thought perhaps ho might truly have been Bertram of Lydius.”
“I do not know you,” said the man.