Blood Brothers of Gor

by Norman, John;

  The point of the lance was bloody.

  "Where are the Yellow Knives?" asked Radish.

  "I slew them," said Pumpkin.

  "You slew them!" she cried, in horror.

  "Yes," he said.

  "You are insane!" she cried.

  "Where is the other lance?" Pumpkin asked Carrot.

  "Hidden, near the edge of the maize field," said Carrot.

  "I thought so," said Pumpkin. "In the morning, fetch it."

  "I will," said Carrot. The dark-haired girl, stripped, trembling, held Carrot's arm, tightly.

  "You did not truly slay the Yellow Knives, did you?" asked Radish.

  "Yes," said Pumpkin. "I did."

  "You are insane!" she cried. "You are insane!"

  He regarded her, evenly, not speaking.

  "We are doomed," she said. "We are all doomed!"

  "Take off your clothes," he said.

  She looked at him, speechless.

  "Completely," he said.

  "Never!" she cried.

  "Now," he said.

  I noted that the other Waniyanpi women, other than the two who had already stripped themselves, removed their clothing. Radish looked wildly about. Then she looked to the bloody point of the feathered lance. Then she looked into the eyes of Pumpkin. She shuddered. She saw that he would not brook disobedience.

  "Good," said Pumpkin.

  I saw that Radish, as I had once conjectured, was, all things considered, not a bad-looking woman. Indeed, all things considered, she was rather attractive.

  "I am the leader!" she said.

  "Turn about, slowly, and then again face me," he said. "Good," he said. I saw that Radish, indeed, was an attractive woman.

  I saw then that the Waniyanpi males were examining the other women as well. Some they had turn before them; some were, by the arms, forcibly turned about, for inspection; in the case of others the males themselves walked about the women, and the women knew themselves being boldly beheld and appraised. This gave great joy to the men. I think that many of them, never before, had realized how soft and beautiful, how desirable, are women.

  "Pumpkin!" protested Radish, tears in her eyes.

  "I am not a vegetable," he said. "I am no longer Pumpkin."

  "I do not understand," said Radish.

  "I am taking a new name," he said. "I am taking the name 'Seibar'. I am now Seibar." 'Seibar', incidentally, is a common Gorean name. It was the surname, for example, of a slaver in Kailiauk. Too, I had known two people in Ar by that name.

  "Pumpkin!" she said.

  "I am Seibar," he said.

  "That is not a Waniyanpi name," she said.

  "True," he said.

  "This is insolence," she said. "This is insubordination! Let me put on my clothing, quickly!"

  "Whether or not you wear clothing," he said, "is my decision, and I will decide the matter if, when and how I please."

  "I am the leader!" she cried.

  "Kneel," he said.

  One by one the Waniyanpi women knelt. Radish watched them in misery.

  "Now," said Seibar.

  Radish knelt. She looked well at his feet.

  "I am the leader!" she cried.

  "No," he said. "You are only a woman."

  "We are all Sames!" she cried.

  "No," he said. "You are a woman. I am a man. We are not the same."

  "The Teaching!" she cried. "Remember the Teaching!"

  "The Teaching is false," he said. "Surely you have known that. Surely you have used it long enough, for whatever reasons, to subvert, deny and hide your sex."

  "No," she said. "No!"

  "But now, no longer will you betray and conceal your sex. You will now, henceforth, objectively and openly, be what you are, a woman."

  "No!" she cried.

  "Your lies, your subterfuges, your pretenses, are at an end."

  "No," she wept.

  "You will, henceforth, acknowledge your sex and be true to it. You will, henceforth, without deception, without qualification, in your thoughts, and in your most secret thoughts, and in your deportment, behavior and appearance, dare to express, and express, your full femaleness, totally and honestly."

  "No, no," she wept.

  "Henceforward," he said, "you will be precisely what you are, a woman."

  "Please, no," she said.

  "I have said it," said Seibar.

  "Please," she wept. "Please, please."

  "It has been said," he said.

  She put down her head, shuddering.

  "Naturally, there are sanctions attached to this command," he said.

  "I understand," she said.

  "And I do not think disobedience will be difficult to detect," he said.

  She nodded. An expression, a gesture, even a tone of voice or a tiny movement, might reveal reservation or disobedience. Safety, in such a situation, inasmuch as it lay anywhere, surely lay in abject and total compliance, beginning with interior submission, and issuing then in appropriate behaviors. Radish would no longer be permitted to suppress her womanhood. She must now reveal it, and in an uncompromising and authentic fashion. It had been decided by Seibar.

  "What are you?" asked Seibar.

  "I am a woman," said Radish. There were tears in her eyes. She half choked on the words.

  "Ohhh," said one or two of the Waniyanpi women, softly, thrilled, hearing Radish's admission.

  Seibar handed the lance he held to Carrot, who placed it against the wall. He then, with a strap, crouched down, before Radish.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  He tied the strap about her right ankle and then, leaving her about six inches of slack, tied it also about her left ankle. He then took the strap up, and forward, between her legs, where, crossing her wrists, he proceeded to bind them together, tightly, before her body. He jerked shut the last knot, decisively. "Binding you," he said.

  She tested the tight, flat leather circles confining her wrists, a small movement, one not intended to be observed. She turned white. She knew herself helpless.

  "On your feet, woman," said Seibar, hauling her by an arm to her feet.

  She could not stand straight, as he had left her only some eighteen inches of strap between her left ankle and her bound wrists.

  "Go to the men in this room and tell them what you are," said Seibar.

  Radish, bent over, with short steps, those of a length permitted her by her leather shackles, made her way to Carrot. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "I am a woman," she said.

  "Yes," said Carrot.

  "I am a woman," said Radish to Cabbage.

  "Yes," said Cabbage.

  At last Radish stood before me. "I am a woman," she wept.

  "That is easy to see," I said.

  Seibar then, by the arm, led her to an open place in the lodge.

  Suddenly she broke loose from him and turned about, almost falling. She pulled futilely at the straps. "I am not a woman!" she screamed. "I am not a woman!"

  Seibar, slowly, began to wrap leather straps about his right hand, that he might have them firmly in his grip. The ends of these straps, of which there were five, dangled then from his fist, some two feet or so in length. He approached Radish. She regarded him in terror. He swung the straps slowly before her eyes. She regarded them, almost as though mesmerized.

  "I lied," she said. "I am a woman. I am truly a woman!"

  "Kneel," he said.

  Radish lost no time in falling to her knees.

  "You have been arrogant and pretentious," he said.

  "She has had people put out of the compound," said a man.

  "She wanted us to bind our guests and turn them over to Yellow Knives," said another man.

  "She has pretended to be a man!" said another man.

  "No! No! A Same! A Same!" cried Radish.

  "No," said the man, "—a man."

  "Yes," wept Radish. "I lied. I lied! I tried in my heart to be a man! I pretended to be a man, but I am not a man! I am a wo
man! I have never been other than a woman! I wanted to be what I was not, not what I was! But I was miserable, and unhappy! I wanted to be the wielder of power, when I should have been subject to power! I am sorry! I beg now to be permitted, fully, to be what I am, a woman! Forgive me! Show me mercy, please! I beg it!"

  "She has betrayed her sex," said another man.

  "No," said Radish. "No!"

  "And you have tried to weaken, to reduce and destroy true manhood," said Seibar.

  "No," she cried. "No!"

  "Men are now no longer tolerant of this," said Seibar. "They have had enough."

  "I meant no harm!" cried Radish.

  "We are rising," said a man.

  "Yes!" said another. "Yes!" said another. "Yes!" said another.

  Radish looked wildly about. Then, again, she looked at Seibar.

  "We are choosing, you see, my dear Radish," said Seibar, "to reassert our natural sovereignty. The experiment in perversion, falsehood and disease is done. Now, again, we will be men."

  "Seibar!" she wept.

  "Yes!" cried the men.

  "Surely you have feared that this might one day happen," he said.

  She looked at him, wildly.

  "Put your head to the dust," he said.

  She did so. She trembled. "I am a woman!" she cried. "I am a woman!"

  "And one who has not been pleasing," said Seibar.

  Then he lashed her, and well.

  Then, in a few moments, she lay on her side at his feet, bound, sobbing, marked, disciplined.

  At a sign from Seibar Carrot and Cabbage lifted her to her feet. They held her in place. She looked out at Seibar, through her hair and the tears in her eyes. She could not stand.

  "Put her out," said Seibar, "as she did others."

  "No," she wept. "No!"

  "Do not fear," said Seibar. "I will have them remove your bonds once you are hurled beyond the gate. You will then have the same opportunities for survival which you have accorded others."

  "Seibar, please, no!" she wept.

  "Only then will the gate be closed against you," he said.

  "Please, no!" she wept. She struggled, hysterically. "Let me kneel!" she begged Carrot and Cabbage.

  At a sign from Seibar they permitted her to fall to her knees.

  "I beg to be shown mercy," she said.

  "The same mercy which you have shown others?" asked Seibar.

  "No," she wept, "true mercy!"

  "Why should it be shown to you," he asked, "as it was not to them?"

  She put down her head, sobbing. For this she had no answer.

  "We shall open the gate," said a man.

  "Beloved Mira," cried Radish, looking at Mira, wildly, "what shall I do?"

  Mira shrank back, startled. "I am only a slave," she said. "You are a free woman."

  "What shall I do?" she begged, tearfully.

  "You have but one slim chance," said Mira.

  "Speak," begged Radish.

  "The only avenue of escape which might lie open before you," said Mira, "is too debasing and degrading. I dare not even mention it to you."

  "Speak, speak!" begged Radish.

  "Sue to be his slave," said Mira. "As a wholly submitted woman, one he owns, he may be disposed to show you mercy."

  "I do not know what to do," wept Radish.

  "If you are a free woman," said Mira, "go nobly forth into the Barrens, there to perish of hunger or thirst, or of animals or exposure. If you are a slave, sue to be his slave."

  "I do not know what to do!" she wept.

  "Do what is in your heart," said Mira.

  "Beg mercy for me, plead for me, intercede for me!" begged Radish.

  Mira came and knelt before Seibar, her head down. "Have mercy upon us, Master," she said. "We are only women, one bond and one free. We know your strength. We know what you can do. We do not dispute your sovereignty. We beg for mercy, if only for a time. We beg for kindness, if only for a moment."

  "Your slave speaks eloquently," said Seibar.

  "She has experienced the might of men, and knows what they can do," I said.

  The woman in the leather shackles, then, with her wrists bound before her body, suddenly sobbed, and shook with ungovernable, overwhelming emotion. The movement, like a shudder, had been unrestrained, uncontrollable. Something deep and profound had obviously occurred within her. "Yes," she whispered to herself. "Yes!"

  She put her head down and, unbidden, tenderly, submissively, softly, began to kiss the feet of Seibar.

  "Look up," said Seibar.

  She lifted her head. Her eyes were moist. They were incredibly soft and tender. I think that never before had she seen Seibar like that.

  "And doubtless you, too, subscribe to the discourse of this slave," said Seibar, indicating Mira.

  "With but one exception, yes," said the leather-bound woman.

  "Oh?" asked Seibar.

  "She is mistaken in one detail," she said.

  "What is that?" asked Seibar.

  "She said that there were two women who knelt before you, one bond and one free. In this she was in error. There were two women who knelt before you, but one was not bond and one free. Both were bond."

  Mira, tears in her eyes, suddenly seized the woman bound beside her, and kissed her.

  I took Mira by the hair and threw her to the side.

  "Yes," said the leather-bound woman looking up at Seibar. "I am bond."

  "Beware of the words you speak," said Seibar. This was true. Such words, in themselves, in the appropriate context, effected enslavement. Intention, and such, is immaterial, for one might always maintain that one had not meant them, or such. The words themselves, in the appropriate context, are sufficient. Whether one means them or not one becomes, in their utterance, instantly, categorically and without recourse, fully and legally a slave, something with which masters are then entitled to do with as they please. Such words are not to be spoken lightly. They are as meaningful as the collar, as significant as the brand.

  "The words I speak, I speak knowingly," she said.

  "Speak clearly," he said.

  "I herewith proclaim myself a slave," she said. "I am a slave."

  "You are now a slave," I said to her, "even in the cities. You are a property. You could be returned to a master as such in a court of law. This is something which is recognized even outside of the Barrens. This is much stronger, in that sense, than being the slave of Kaiila or Yellow Knives."

  "I know," she said.

  Seibar looked down upon her.

  "I am now a legal slave," she said.

  He nodded. It was true.

  "A few moments ago," she said, "I for the first time confessed myself to myself a slave, a confession which I now acknowledge and make public. For years I had known that I was a slave, but I had denied this, and fought it. Then, suddenly, I no longer wanted to fight this. When we fight ourselves it is only we ourselves who must lose. In that moment I surrendered to my secret truth. What I have done now is little more than to proclaim and make public that secret truth. Beyond that admission there lies little more than the effectuation of a technicality."

  "But the technicality has now been effectuated," said Seibar.

  "Yes," she said, putting her head down, "it has now been effectuated."

  "Whose slave do you think you are?" he asked.

  "You have stripped me, and bound me, as a slave," she said. "I have felt your lash. Surely I am yours."

  Commonly, of course, it is the man who makes the slave. He seizes the woman and enslaves her.

  It is as simple as that. She is then his.

  But here, interestingly, she had pronounced herself slave, becoming in the utterance of those words a slave.

  "Have I collared you?" he asked.

  "No," she said, keeping her head down, "but it is my hope that you will do so."

  "Have I indicated any interest in having you as a slave?" he asked. "Have I given you any reason to believe that I might accept you as a sl
ave?"

  "No," she said, keeping her head down, "you have not."

  "Have I made you a slave?" he asked.

  "No," she whispered.

  "Who made you a slave?" he asked.

  "I made myself a slave, when I said the words," she whispered.

  That was true.

  "You are not my slave," he said. "At this point you are only an unclaimed slave."

  She looked up at him, in consternation.

  An unclaimed slave may be claimed by any free person.

  "Whose slave would you be?" he asked.

  "Yours," she said.

  "Speak," he said.

  "I would be Seibar's slave," she said.

  "Claim her, if you wish," I said. "Anyone here may do so."

  "Is there anyone here who wants this slave?" inquired Seibar, looking about.

  "No," said more than one man.

  "Put her out," said another.

  "Give her to sleen," said another.

  "No, no," she wept. "Please, no!" She looked up, wildly, at Seibar. "Please, please claim me!" she cried.

  "Claim her, and then punish her with death," said a man.

  "Please, no," she whispered.

  "Do you still wish to be claimed," asked Seibar.

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "By whom?"

  "By you, by you!"

  "Do you beg it?" he asked.

  "Yes, yes!" she wept. "I beg it! I beg it!"

  "I claim you," said Seibar.

  She looked up at him, shuddering, tormented by conflicting emotions, tears staining her cheeks, gratitude warring with terror in her eyes—trembling, trying to read her fate in his eyes—looked up at him, from her knees, naked, helpless, fearing, bound, she now a claimed slave, he now her master.

  "Whose slave are you?" he asked.

  "I am Seibar's slave," she said.

  "Now, perhaps I will give you to another," he said.

  She looked down, shuddering. "It may be done with me as you please," she said.

  "Do you think I do not understand," he said, angrily, "that you have made yourself a slave in the hope that you might thereby escape the fate of being put out into the Barrens?"

  "Whatever might have been my motivation," she said, "the fact remains, in any case, that I am now fully your slave, and may be done with wholly as you wish."