Vagabonds of Gor coc-24

by John Norman

  "It seems you have thought these matters through in some detail," she said.

  "Too," I said, "I shall call you 'Ina'."

  "Is that wise?" she asked.

  "I think so," I said. "I think the men of Ar, remembering that the Lady Ina was somewhat rude to me in one of their camps, will see this as a rich joke, giving her name to a lowly rence girl. But also, if they grow suspicious of you, I want it to be very natural that you would promptly, and without thought, answer to the name of 'Ina'. It might surely provoke suspicion if you were supposedly, say, Feize or Yasmine, or Nancy or Jane, and you answered to the name of 'Ina'."

  "You speak of me as though I might be a sleen," she said, " 'answering to a name'."

  "You are a captive," I reminded her.

  "True," she said.

  "Also," I said, "I like the name 'Ina' for you. 'Ina' is an excellent name for you!"

  "Is that supposed to be flattering?" she asked.

  I looked at her. I considered what she might look like in a collar, and chains. "Yes," I said. I wondered if she knew that 'Ina' was a common slave name.

  "And I am to be mute?" she said.

  "I think that is in our best interests," I said. "If you are a simple rence girl, we cannot very well have you speaking with the accents of a cultured lady of Ar."

  "I suppose not," she said, grudgingly.

  "There is nothing personal in. this," I said. "You have a lovely accent. I am fond of hearing it. Indeed, I am particularly fond of hearing it in female slaves."

  "Slaves!"

  "But you, of course, are a free woman."

  "Yes!" she said.

  "There are many lovely accents, of course," I said, "for example, those of Tuna and Cos."

  "Particularly in female slaves," she said.

  "Yes," I said.

  She pulled a little at her wrists, futilely.

  "Have you heard of the planet, Earth?" I asked. "Yes," she said.

  "And of women brought here from that planet?" "Slaves," she said.

  "Of course," I said.

  "Yes," she said.

  "Many speak their Gorean with a piquant flavor," I said.

  "Undoubtedly," she said.

  "And many find those accents interesting, even exotic and charming, as I find yours."

  "Do not confuse me with the women of Earth," she said.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "They are slave stock," she said.

  "All women are slave stock," I said.

  She looked up at me, angrily, but then, as I touched her lightly, she moaned, and squirmed helplessly.

  "You squirm rather like a slave," I said.

  "Oh!" she gasped.

  "Yes," I said. "To be sure, many of the girls brought here from Earth learn their Gorean so well that they become indistinguishable from native born slaves. Perhaps they have best been brought under the whip. Even so they will often, in the pronunciation of a word or two, betray their Earth origin. Sometimes masters enjoy tricking such a mistake out of them. The girls must then be anxious whether they are to be mocked, savored or beaten."

  "Please touch me again," she whispered. "Yes!"

  Many women, of course, have high linguistic aptitudes. These may have been selected for, considering the high mobility of women, in virtue of practices in exogamous mating, enslavements, sales, captures, and such, assisting them to placate, and accommodate themselves to, foreign masters.

  "And so," I said, "in spite of the pleasure which listening to your accent affords me I would rather forgo that pleasure temporarily, enjoyable though it may be, than risk impalement on its account."

  "Of course," she said, tensely.

  "You are then to be as a mute rence girl."

  "Perhaps I can write in the sand," she said.

  "No," I said. "Most rence girls are illiterate."

  "How, then, am I to communicate?" she asked.

  "By whimpers, moans, and such," I said.

  "Then I shall be, in effect, only a pet animal!"

  "Yes," I said. "And with respect to moans and whimpers, considering what is likely to be done to you, you will probably find such sounds appropriate enough."

  "I see," she said.

  "I trust you will play your role well," I said.

  "I will try," she said.

  "Your life may depend on it," I said.

  "You are then truly going to the aid of the men of Ar?" she said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Your decision is made," she said.

  "Yes," I said. "I made it earlier."

  "When I was kneeling, with my head down to the sand?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "I yielded to you!" she said. "And yet you were paying me no attention!"

  "I was thinking," I said. She made an angry noise.

  "Do not be angry," I said. "Slaves are sometimes used for such purposes, to content a fellow while he considers more important matters."

  "Then I was used as might have been a slave!" she said.

  "As a slave might sometimes be used," I said.

  "I see," she said.

  "Surely you do not regard that as inappropriate," I said. "Oh!" she said, angrily.

  She struggled.

  She could not free her wrists.

  "But I assure you," I said, "you have on the whole, as yet, been a free woman, very little understanding of what it might be to be subjected to slave use."

  She shrank down in the sand, looking up at me, frightened.

  "No," I said.

  "So much they are at the mercy of their masters?" she said.

  "Totally," I said.

  "Good," she said.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Good," she said. "They are slaves. That is as it should be. It matters not!"

  I laughed softly to myself. Did she not know that she, too, could become a slave, that she, too, could have such obediences and helplessnesses imposed upon her?

  She turned her bead to the side. "I wonder if you are paying me any attention now," she said, poutingly.

  "Look up at me," I said. She did so.

  "Oh!" she said.

  "Yes," I said. "I am paying you attention now. Too, you are now well worth watching."

  " 'Worth watching'!" she said.

  "Of course," I said. "You are very beautiful, your movements, your expressions, and such."

  "Then some men do pay attention to the women they do these things to," she said.

  "Certainly," I said. "Almost invariably."

  "Oh! Oh!" she said.

  "See?" I said.

  "You give me such pleasure," she whispered.

  "You look well, bound," I said.

  "Surely you jest," she said, "in speaking of taking me among the men of Ar."

  "No," I said.

  "Then it is truly your intention to take me among them?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said.

  I continued to attend to her.

  "I do not wish to go among them!" she said.

  "I do not blame you," I said.

  "It will be extremely dangerous," she said.

  "I do not think they will see the Lady Ina in a small, well-curved, half-naked rence girl, in slave strips, perhaps bound."

  "Let us run away, together," she said. "They need never know."

  "No," I said.

  "I will try to be very pleasing to you," she said.

  "You will be that way anyway," I said. She looked up at me.

  "And if you were a slave," I said, "for that hint of bargaining, you would be severely beaten, if not slain."

  "I am not a slave!" she said.

  "And that is why I do not now severely beat you, or slay you," I said.

  "Then my will means nothing!" she said.

  "That is exactly correct," I said.

  I then began to once more conduct her to the heights. To be sure, her entire demeanor was now half in consternation, and shaken with the import of my intentions.

  "How can you do this to me," she asked, "forcing me to
feel these things, after what you have told me?"

  "I am not yet through with you," I said. "Ohhh," she said. "Ohhh!" "See?" I said.

  "You are pretty, Ina," I said.

  "A girl is pleased!" she said, bitterly. "Are you being impertinent?" I asked. "No!" she said.

  "I thought that perhaps you were," I said.

  "No!" she said.

  "Perhaps you wish to be lashed with my belt?"

  "No, no!" she said. "Who is pleased?" I asked. "Ina is pleased!" she said. "You say that well, Ina," I said. She looked up at me. "Repeat it," I said.

  "Ina is pleased," she said.

  "I like the name 'Ina' on you," I said.

  " 'On me'?" she said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "You speak of it as though it were a brand," she said.

  "More in the nature of a collar," I said.

  "A collar?" she said.

  "Yes," I said. "Collars can be changed."

  " 'Ina' is not a slave name," she said. "It is my own name, in my own right! I am a free woman! It is my own name, in my own right! It is not a slave name!"

  "But if you become a slave," I said, "you would have no name."

  She looked at me.

  "Is that not true?" I asked her.

  "Yes," she said. "That is true."

  "And then," I said, "if a master wished, he might name you, say, 'Ina'."

  "Of course," she said.

  "What would your name then be?"

  " 'Ina'," she said.

  "And would it be your true name?" I asked.

  "Yes," she said.

  "But it would then be only a slave name, would it not?" I asked.

  "Yes," she said. I regarded her, amused.

  "Yes," she said. "Then it would be only a slave name!"

  "Oh!" she said. "Stop! Stop! I am there! I am frightened! I dare go no further!"

  "But you shall," I said.

  "Whip me!" she said.

  "That will not be necessary," I said.

  "I dare not go even a hair's breadth further," she whispered.

  "Have no fear," I said. "The choice is no longer yours."

  "Whose then?" she asked.

  "Mine," I said.

  "Yours?"

  "Yes," I said. "When it pleases me; in a moment, I shall force you."

  "I am at your mercy," she said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Why are you doing this to me?" she asked.

  "It pleases me," I said. "Too, I think it would be good for you, particularly now, as you are soon to be taken among the men of Ar, to discover what men can do to you."

  She pushed back a little, in the sand. This amused me. Did she think she could escape? "I am afraid," she said.

  "Women survive such things," I assured her.

  "I am bound!" she said.

  "Do not fret," I said.

  "Beast, beast, beast!" she said.

  "And you are now to discover what it is to be a pretty little female beast," I said.

  "Do it to me!" she begged. "No, don't!"

  I regarded her.

  "I am at a gate," she said. "I am on a bridge! I am on a mountain. There are flowers. I am on a cliff! I am afraid!"

  I looked at her. She was very beautiful.

  "Have mercy!" she said. "Let me go back!"

  "No," I said. "You will not-be permitted to go back."

  "Let me stay where I am then!" she wept.

  "Surely you understand that that is impossible," I said.

  "Whip me, then!" she said. "Drag me in a collar and chains, like a slave girl!"

  "Your touch!" she wept.

  "I am now forcing you to go where I have decided you shall go," I said, "where t is my wish that you shall go."

  "No!" she said.

  "And where, too, it is your wish to go," I said.

  "No!" she said.

  "Your touch," she wept. "Your touch!"

  "No," she wept. "No!"

  "Your plaints are meaningless," I said.

  "Your touch," she cried. "Please stop!"

  "I am taking you there," I said, "whether you wish it or not."

  "No!" she wept.

  "You have no choice," I said.

  "No!" she cried.

  "You might as well be driven with a whip," I said. "You might as well be being dragged in a collar and chains. You might as well be a slave girl."

  "Aiii!" she cried, head back, eyes closed, hair about, rearing up, twisting, thrashing in the sand. Then she was looking at me, wildly.

  She tried to press against me.

  "I am bound and helpless!" she wept. "Hold me! Hold me, tightly! Take me in your arms. I beg it!"

  I took her in my arms, as she wished. I could feel her heart beating wildly.

  "I did not know it could be like that," she said. "I could not believe it."

  "Such things," I said, "are only the first horizons, of an infinite number of possible horizons."

  She pressed herself desperately against me, sobbing.

  "You are a woman," I said.

  "I have no doubt of that now," she said. I kissed her.

  "I did not know being a woman could be anything like that," she said. "How precious is my sex! How wonderful it is! I love it! Now I never want to be anything else!"

  I kissed her again.

  "But I have these terrible and frightening thoughts," she said. "Now I want to love and serve men!"

  "They are not such terrible thoughts," I said.

  "And I dare not tell you the other thought that cries out within me!"

  "It is that you sense now that you are owned by men, and wish to belong to them," I said.

  She cried out, wildly, shuddering.

  "Rest now," I said. "I must do some hunting and then we will go to the camp of the men of Ar."

  I then gently rose to my feet. I regarded her there in the sand, naked, her hands bound behind her, the strap from the raft running to the improvised, buckled collar on her throat, which, as tether, would keep her in the vicinity of the raft. She was looking at me, in consternation, in awe. I think she was still trying to cope with the feelings she had felt, with the insights she had obtained.

  28 Labienus

  "The camps will be small, scattered, and carefully concealed," I said, "even from the air. They will serve primarily for rest and sleep. There will be no stirring from them during the day, and little or no motion within them. The eyes of men and tarns can detect even a tiny movement within a large visual expanse."

  The men looked at one another. Labienus, their captain, whose rank was high captain, and had been commanding officer in the vanguard of the central columns in Ar's entry into the delta, sat upon a rock. Ina knelt in the background, her head down, her hands bound behind her back, fastened to her crossed, bound ankles, in binding her hands I left a yard or so of fiber loose, wrapped about her left wrist, that it might serve, at my discretion, as convenient ankle binding. It was with this length of fiber that her ankles were now secured to her wrists. A cord was about her waist, snugly. It was fastened with a bow knot on her left. The knot, being on the left, was not only convenient for her, reaching across her body, perhaps at a captor's or master's command, but was readily at hand, as well, for the attentions of a right-handed captor or master. In either case, the bow knot, of course, loosens with a casual tug. Over the cord, in front and back, were two narrow slave strips. These, too, of course, may be jerked away at the discretion of a captor or master. The nature and control of a captive's or slave's clothing, and even if she is to be given any, is an additional power of the captor or master. Indeed, some masters seem to think that that is one of the major reasons for permitting a girl clothing, to make possible the exercise of this additional power over her. It may be denied to her, for example, as a discipline. Few girls desire to be sent shopping naked, through busy streets. To be sure, in such a case, they would probably be put in the iron belt. I myself tend to see the disciplinary aspects of clothing as interesting, and not to be overlooked, but
minor. More important reasons, in my opinion, are such things as to mark the girl as captive or slave, to enhance her beauty, to heighten her sexuality, and stimulate the master. The major reason I had put Ina in slave strips, of course, was rather different yet. It wished to make it somewhat easier for the men of Ar to control themselves in her presence than it might otherwise have been. It would not do at all, for example, to have to fight off several fellows a few moments after entering the camp. Another reason for permitting a girl clothing, incidentally, is that she may have at least one veil, so to speak, which the captor or master may at his will, and for his pleasure, remove. I had, however, it seems, seriously miscalculated in one matter. The men of Ar, sullen, hungry, defeated, resigned, exhausted, miserable, terrorized, sick, scarcely seemed to notice her. I was much surprised by this. Had Ina been a slave I think she might have been disturbed by this lack of attention to her, and active consideration of her not inconsiderable charms. As a mere free woman, however, she probably did not understand how unusual this was, and, if anything, was more than pleased to be allowed to remain inconspicuously in the background. She knelt with her head down, incidentally, of her own will. I think this was partly because she was frightened, and partly because she had now begun to learn her womanhood and knew herself to be among strong men, thus appropriately submitted.

  "We will move at night," I said, "feeding ourselves from what the marsh offers."

  "It offers nothing," said a fellow, sullenly.

  "This is your choice," I said.

  "How shall we see?" asked another man.

  "By the stars, the moons," I said. "The difficulties you experience would be experienced as well by any who would seek you, and most such, not even knowing you in the vicinity, will be abed at such times. Too, if attacked, it is easier to scatter and slip away in the darkness."