Renegades of Gor

by Norman, John;

  “I had no idea, Commander, that you or the others were here,” she said.

  “We gathered that,” he said.

  There was laughter.

  “I beg your indulgence,” she said. “I am only a female.”

  Aemilianus did not speak.

  “I do not think my behavior so untoward, unpredictable or surprising for my sex,” she said.

  The face of Aemilianus remained expressionless.

  “I do not think that other women, those of Ar’s Station, or of other cities, under similar circumstances, would have behaved differently,” she said.

  “Do you think they would have behaved so, so readily?” he asked.

  “I do not know,” she said. “Perhaps the stupider women would not have. It is every woman for herself!”

  “I understand,” said Aemilianus.

  “If that, then,” she said, “is the sum of the charges against me, I request that they be dismissed. Surely my defense, even if you do not approve of me, is sound. Surely everything that I have done, including the matter of wanting to keep my hair, lies within the prerogatives of a free female. Similarly, it is surely within her rights to pursue her own best interests, selfishly or not, as she understands them. Similarly, it is not her fault if other women are not as favored as she with intelligence and wealth, and perhaps beauty. If there is any objection to my conduct, surely it must be merely that I was not, in your opinion, sufficiently patriotic, and surely it is no crime to be insufficiently patriotic. Therefore, remove my chains.” At this point she lifted her chained wrists to Aemilianus.

  “The matter,” said Aemilianus, “is considerably more complex than you seem to understand. There are more subtleties here than you seem to realize. For one thing, your conviction that it is not a crime to be insufficiently patriotic may not be shared by everyone. In particular, it may not be shared by those who risked their lives in the defense of the city, those who, say, fought upon the wall, or at the gate, or on the landing or walkway. Secondly, there is the consideration, subtle at times, to be sure, of conduct indicating suitability for the collar.”

  She shuddered.

  The principle he had alluded to pertains to conduct in a free woman which is taken as sufficient to warrant her reduction to slavery. The most common application of this principle occurs in areas such as fraud and theft. Other applications may occur, for example, in cases of indigency and vagrancy. Prostitution, rare on Gor because of female slaves, is another case. The women are taken, enslaved, cleaned up and controlled. Indulgence in sensuous dance is another case. Sensuous dance is almost always performed by slaves on Gor. A free woman who performs such dancing publicly is almost begging for the collar. In some cities the sentence of bondage is mandatory for such a woman. “Conduct indicating suitability for the collar,” of course, can be interpreted in various ways, and more broadly and narrowly. It is almost always understood, of course, fortunately for women, and as I suppose the phrase itself makes clear, in the special legal sense of the phrase, as having to do with overt behavior rather than psychological predispositions and such. Many Goreans believe that all women are natural slaves, and thus, in a sense, are all eminently suitable for the collar. But even taken in the appropriate, legal behavioral sense the phrase is, as may well be imagined, subject to diverse interpretations. For example, in the present case, a judge would be expected to decide whether or not the behaviors of the sort performed, for example, the seeming misrepresentation of caste, the baring of certain portions of the body, perhaps violating codes of decorum, the adoption of exciting habiliments, with the possible result of jeopardizing less attractively clad women, the gold carried, giving her a presumed advantage in mollifying captors, her refusal to have her hair shorn, this again perhaps comparatively jeopardizing other women, and such, constituted behavior for which the collar might be suitably imposed. Also important, of course, at least in the eyes of some, might be her failures in the defense effort, her refusal to be shorn, contributing her hair for use as catapult cordage, in spite of the desperate need for such materials, and the fact that it was only after the imposition of a severe penalty for noncompliance that she accepted even a small duty in the siege. It was on the basis of considerations such as these, and perhaps cumulatively, taking into consideration their conjoint weight, that a determination might be made as to whether or not it was fitting that she be made a slave. Her begging for a Cosian collar but moments ago, and her open admission of the fittingness and rightness of her being collared, interestingly, would probably not be considered at all. In most cities such things are taken for granted, the natural rightfulness of slavery for females, and such, and are accordingly seldom regarded as germane with respect to the legal imposition of a sentence of bondage.

  “You do not think then that these charges should be dismissed out of hand?” she asked, faltering.

  “I would certainly not think so,” said Aemilianus.

  “I see,” she said, frightened. She was kneeling up, off her heels.

  We heard a Vosk gull screaming overhead.

  From where I stood I could see the linked ankle rings on her fair ankles, and part of the long chain running from the ankle-ring chain up, before her body, to the staple on her collar. The wrist-ring chain, in front, was attached to the same long chain. I could also see the metal collar on her neck. It was in plain view, of course, as I had cut her hair.

  “What then is your decision upon the charges, Commander?” she asked.

  “‘Charges’?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Charges,” he said, “are appropriate to free women.”

  “Commander?” she asked.

  “They might be involved, for example,” he said, “in a trial.”

  “Of course, Commander,” she said.

  “Whereas in your case,” he said, “such considerations, being pertinent to free women, may be simply beside the point.”

  “But surely I have been on trial!” she said.

  “Perhaps, rather,” he said, “as I suggested earlier, we are not engaged here in a trial but in something quite different.”

  “I do not understand,” she said.

  “Perhaps this is more in the nature of a little hearing, a quite informal little hearing, or inquiry.”

  “Commander?” she faltered.

  “And perhaps what we are really concerned with here are not ‘charges,’ which are pertinent only to free persons, but ‘causes for punishment,’ which are pertinent to slaves.”

  She looked at him in terror.

  “To be sure,” he said, “anything, with or without reason, may be done to a slave.”

  “Commander—” she said.

  “I do not think we need now concern ourselves with matters such as intentional misrepresentations of caste, violations of decorum, arrogation of advantages, jeopardization of fellow citizens, and insufficiency of patriotism. We must rather consider matters which, I believe, are more pertinent in your case, and, I fear, unfortunately for you, far more serious.”

  “What matters?” she asked, terrified.

  “Chief among them,” he said, “would seem to be misrepresentation of status.”

  “I—I do not understand,” she whispered.

  “Impersonation of a free woman,” he said.

  She did not dare to speak.

  Impersonation of a free woman, in some cities, can be a capital offense.

  “And, of course,” he said, “there are several associated considerations, such as arrogant speech, speaking without permission, and failure to use the proper forms of address.”

  She shuddered.

  “You may speak,” he said.

  She lifted her hands toward her collar. “You can see that the only collar I wear,” she said, “is a portion of my chaining. You can see that I am not branded!”

  “Are you, or are you not, a free woman?” asked Aemilianus. “Speak clearly.”

  She squirmed, kneeling on the deck. She trembled in the chains
. She looked from one face to another, before her, and at the sides. Wildly she must have been considering whether or not there might be any there who had heard her speak the self-irreversible words of self-enslavement on the upper battlements. Then, kneeling up, again, off her heels, she straightened her back, and, I fear, was preparing to respond boldly, and negatively, to the question of Aemilianus.

  She lifted her head, she drew in her breath.

  “Consider your answer carefully,” I said to her, from behind her.

  Hearing my voice she suddenly uttered a shriek of misery, flung her hands up in the wrist rings, until the chaining impeded their further movements, and jerked helplessly in the chains. Then she lowered her hands and wavered. I feared she might faint. Then she bent over at the waist and put her head down, and turned half about, on her knees. Then, lifting her head a little, she looked up at me.

  I looked down at the slave, my arms folded.

  Then she again, quickly, put her head down.

  She then turned again, on her knees, to face Aemilianus. “I am a slave!” she cried, prostrating herself before him, her chained wrists under her thighs. “Forgive me, Master! Have mercy on me, Master!”

  She had seen me on the ship, standing there, a free man, among peers. She had had some concept, doubtless, of what I had done on the wall, if nowhere else. I did not think she was under any delusion as to who would be believed in any conflict of testimonies. Too, of course, Lady Claudia, still a free person, who could render free testimony, not even extracted under torture, for example, had been present. Too, the young crossbowman, though she would not know his identity, as she had been hooded, had been there later, when she had, by the code of whimpers, acknowledged herself a slave, and before him, and me, had performed an enticing, placatory slave behavior. She was surely under no delusion, now, as to whether Aemilianus and the others knew the truth. They had merely been playing with a slave.

  “It is a serious matter,” said Aemilianus to her, “when a she-tarsk claims not to be a she-tarsk.”

  “I did not claim explicitly to be a free woman, Master!” she wept.

  There was laughter from those about. Even Aemilianus smiled. Her entire behavior had been calculated to deceive those about as to her status.

  “Please forgive a slave, Master!” she wept. She lifted herself a little, timidly.

  There was laughter.

  I had not wanted her to assert, explicitly, in response to the question of Aemilianus, concerning her status, that she was a free woman. Although she did not realize it at the time, she was already then in deep enough difficulties. In making clear to her the futility of such a lie, sure to be devastating in its consequences, and, indeed, the futility of attempting to prolong her entire absurd charade, I had saved her subjection to hideous tortures, and perhaps her life. It is a very serious “cause for punishment” on the part of a slave to conceal or deny her status. Normally, of course, there is very little danger of this sort of thing occurring, as she is usually collared and branded, and, usually, is clad in a distinctive manner.

  “Kneel,” said Aemilianus.

  The girl struggled up, in her chains, and then knelt before him. She crossed her chained hands over her breasts, covering herself. This was interesting, this sudden, poignant touch of frightened modesty, now that she was aware of her slave vulnerability.

  Aemilianus’ eyes were upon her. She lowered her hands. He continued to regard her. She then knelt back on her heels. Still his gaze did not leave her. She then, blushing, opened her knees.

  The tower slave, or domestic slave, and the woman’s slave, commonly kneel with their knees closed. The pleasure slave, on the other hand, at least before men, is expected to kneel with her knees open. The symbolism of this is obvious. Too, it stirs the female in the slave. Finding herself under the continuing regard of Aemilianus the former Lady Publia, her charade of pretended freedom over, wisely spread her knees. It was a placatory gesture, in its way an appeal for lenience, or mercy. But, too, she had little doubt, at least in her case, of the bondage to which she, if permitted to live, would be likely to be consigned. She was thus hopefully proffering herself.

  Too, she understood, clearly, from his gaze, that this gesture or attitude, or posture, was expected of her by Aemilianus.

  And so spread her knees, to obey, to please, to plead, to proffer, and in doing so thereby comprehended the nature of the bondage in terms of which she was to be seen.

  “How did you become a slave?” he asked. He knew, of course.

  “I confessed my natural slavery,” she said, “and then spoke words of self-enslavement.”

  “At which point,” said Aemilianus, “you ceased to be a person, and became a property.”

  “Yes, Master,” she whispered.

  “An animal.”

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “Do you think it is acceptable for properties, for animals, to pretend to the status of persons?”

  “No, Master!” she said.

  “But yet you did so.”

  “Forgive me, Master!” she begged.

  “I have a mind to turn you over to free women,” he said.

  “Please, no, Master!” she wept, terrified.

  With scissors, knives and needles free women might tear her to pieces.

  It is to men that the slave girls must look for protection. Men it is who stand between them and their free sisters.

  Woe is the slave girl whom men see fit to abandon to the mercies of free women.

  How desperately then do the slaves understand the importance of pleasing men!

  “What do you think should be your disposition?” he asked.

  She looked up, startled. It seemed she thought wildly, excitedly, for a moment. But then she put down her head, humbly, fearfully. “Whatever master pleases,” she said.

  “It is a suitable answer,” said Aemilianus. I drew a deep breath. That, I feared, had been a close one.

  “You are in slave chains,” observed Aemilianus.

  “It is fitting for me, Master,” she said. “I am a slave.”

  “What is your name?” he asked.

  “I have no name,” she said. “I have not yet been named.”

  “You were eager to serve Cosians,” he said.

  “Or any man, Master,” she whispered.

  “You were not pleasing,” he said.

  “Forgive me, Master!” she said.

  “Put her to one side,” said Aemilianus, “and bring forth the other female.”

  Two men took the former Lady Publia, now an unnamed female slave, by the arms and pulled her to one side, where they put her on her belly on the deck, her chained wrists under her.

  In another moment another figure, also in sirik, was produced. The sturdy collar of the sirik, from which the central vertical chain depended, could not be seen on her in front, or at the sides, because of her veil. One could see it, of course, at the back of her neck, below the white, scarflike turban. Too, of course, one could see, in front, the dependent chain, the wrist rings and ankle rings, and such. I saw the figure’s eyes, frightened, meet mine as she was drawn forth, with small, hurried steps. She was put on her knees before Aemilianus. She looked to one side and saw the former Lady Publia, naked, in sirik, terrified, lying on her belly, on the deck.

  “Consider,” said Aemilianus, “the exciting costume in which the prisoner appears before us, the baring of so much of the arms, the baring of the calves, the ankles, the feet, the cling of it, indicating it conceals no undergarments but only female, how closely it resembles in many ways that of some simple, humble, impoverished, low-caste maid, and yet how cleverly it is contrived to display its occupant, and in a fashion calculated to stimulate the capture appetites of vigorous men, men accustomed to look upon females as slaves and loot, as prizes and pleasures.”

  There was assent to this. I am sure that more than one man there wished to tear those taunting rags from the beauty they bedecked.

  The former Lady Publia, l
ying at the side, groaned. A fellow kicked her. She was then silent.

  “Are these ingenious rags yours?” asked Aemilianus of the figure kneeling before him.

  “No,” she said.

  “They belonged once, did they not, to a woman called Lady Publia, of Ar’s Station?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Why are you wearing them?” asked Aemilianus.

  “I wore them that I not be recognized,” she said.

  “You would fear then,” he asked, “to be recognized?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You had wished to be taken, perhaps, for the former Lady Publia, of Ar’s Station?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Let us see who this woman is,” said Aemilianus, “who has disguised herself as the former Lady Publia, and who for some reason, it seems, fears to be recognized.” He made a small sign. A man then, carefully, not hurrying, removed the veil and turban.

  The free woman knelt very straight. She held her head up, her neck in the closely fitting, now-visible collar, not trying to hide anything.

  “Is she recognized?” asked Aemilianus.

  “She is,” said more than one man, grimly.

  “I think I understand, now,” said Aemilianus, “why you feared to be recognized.”

  Lady Claudia was silent.

  “You are the traitress, Lady Claudia,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You attempted to escape,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “But you have not escaped, have you?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “I have not escaped.” In a way, I thought that this was ironic. On the piers, had Cosians swarmed over them, doing slaughter, and, where it pleased them, making slaves, her beauty, which was considerable, bared and submitted, might have found favor with conquerors. She might even have been thrown chained to an officer, thenceforth to be his and serve him with perfection, at least until, say, he might tire of her, and, say, give or sell her to another. She might even have served in her way as a souvenir to one fellow or another of the action at Ar’s Station. More mercy might she then have found in the wielder of a bloody sword on the piers than in the abstractions of the justice of her own city. The man with the sword is at least swayable; he is at least human and real.