“That is true,” he said.
“Nor do I,” I said.
“You are a slave,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
In the beginning, many new slaves, just out of the pens, or shortly after feeling the capture loops, are terrified to be viewed in the garments in which they will now be placed, tunics that make their new status, that they are only slaves, clear to all, let alone camisks or ta-teeras. Sometimes they must be whipped into the streets. But later, reveling in the freedom of their collars, and having no choice but to move as what they are, women, and slaves, they, now perfect and real, having found their identity, and rejoicing in it, brazen in the recognition of their uniqueness, their specialness, and desirability, move with a naturalness befitting the lovely, graceful animals they now are, move with pride and joy, save in the presence of free women, of course, whom they muchly, and justifiably, fear.
“Tunics are more comfortable,” I said. “It is easier to move in them.”
“I would suppose so,” said Kurik. “It is not that much different from being naked.”
“We are naked, often enough,” I said.
“Try to walk more like a free woman,” he said.
“It is nice to have sandals,” I said.
“Enjoy them while you can,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“I trust guards will not observe you attentively,” he said.
“Why?” I asked. “My eye color?”
“They probably will not do so, as you are with me,” he said. “With me, they are likely to take you for what you seem. They are unlikely to be attentive, to be suspicious.”
“I do not understand,” I said.
“After even a rudimentary slave training,” he said, “a woman is transformed, often in ways she does not even understand. She is different. She speaks like a slave. She thinks like a slave. She moves like a slave. She is a slave. Sometimes a slave, usually a new slave, foolishly thinking escape might be possible, dons the garments of a free woman, and hopes to pass herself off as a free woman. She may even have obtained the key to her collar, and removed it. But her movements, her walk, her carriage, her small gestures, induce suspicion, for they seem reminiscent not of a free woman, but a slave. She is detained, to her misery, by guardsmen. Free women are brought in and she is stripped. The brand is then revealed. Her first punishment is at the hands of the free women. It is not pleasant. She is then remanded to the authorities, and returned to her master.”
“I see,” I said.
“Too, of course,” he said, “she may be investigated by means of her Home Stone, her family, her friends, her connections, her doings, her address, and so on.”
“Each Gorean,” I said, “has his place in society.”
“Yes,” he said, “and each slave girl hers.”
“And where is that?” I asked.
“At the feet of her master,” he said.
I felt warm, and grateful, and needful. What a wonderful gift was my bondage! I had come to realize that I had longed for it, even on Earth. Now, on Gor, I was in my collar!
“Stay on your feet,” he said. “Do not kneel. Do not press against me.”
“Yes, Master,” I wept.
I longed to lie at his feet, naked, lifting my body to him, begging for the attentions to which a master frequently subjects a slave.
“If others are about,” he said, “I would not use the word ‘Master’.”
“Yes, Master,” I whispered.
“There is a guard,” he said. “That must be the Renata Chamber.”
“Tal,” said Kurik. “The Lady Alexina calls upon the Lady Bina.”
I gathered this was not an unfamiliar business from the guard’s point of view. Quite possibly the Lady Alexina had frequently called upon the Lady Bina. That would make sense, I supposed, that one free woman would attend upon another. Kurik had not even displayed the pass that had brought him this far. He was not challenged, possibly because of my presence, I taken to be the Lady Alexina, possibly because of the assurance with which he presented himself, possibly because the guard was accustomed to seeing the Lady Alexina accompanied in the halls of the palace by one associate or another.
We were admitted into the Renata Room.
The door, which was ornate and heavy, was closed behind us. The room was large, bright, light, and airy. The walls were painted with rich colors, which was often the case in a Gorean dwelling. The room was richly appointed. There was nothing about it that suggested a cell, or an incarceration of any sort.
“Tal, dear Alexina,” said the Lady Bina, pleasantly, approaching us. Her veils were lowered. I had the sense that she thought little of displaying her features. Her origins, I had been given to understand, were not Gorean. She was quite beautiful and, I did not doubt, was well aware of that fact. “What news from the Central Cylinder?” she asked. “Has the date been determined? Have the preparations for the Ceremony of Companionship been completed? Poor Marlenus. How he must chafe at these delays. He must be patient and brave. I trust you bring good news. I plan to remember you well, dear friend, for all your efforts, your comfort and counsel, when I am Ubara.”
I knelt, which muchly puzzled the Lady Bina.
“Do not kneel, Alexina,” she said. “I shall not expect that of you, my friend, even when I am Ubara.”
“She is not the Lady Alexina,” said Kurik. “She is a slave, my slave. Her name is ‘Phyllis’. You know her from the house of Epicrates. I am Kurik, of Victoria, ally to Lord Arcesilaus, friend to your protector, Lord Grendel. You, noble lady, are in grave danger.”
“You are the driver of the pay wagon,” she said. She had engaged him, when arranging the transportation of Lord Grendel, and a slave, to the late-evening meeting at the house of Decius Albus, off the Viktel Aria, purportedly to make contact with a representative or representatives of Lord Arcesilaus.
“A ruse,” he said, “to pursue a purpose.”
“Does it seem to you that I am in danger?” asked the Lady Bina.
“I assure you, you are in dreadful danger, terrible danger,” said Kurik.
“I am to be Ubara of Ar,” she said.
“The Ubar,” said Kurik, “has never seen you.”
“Secretly,” she said, “or my beauty was described to him.”
“He does not even know you exist,” said Kurik.
“Nonsense,” said the Lady Bina. “He even sent an officer of the Taurentians to inform me of his suit, of the projected honor, and fetch me to this palace, while a thousand details were attended to.”
“It was no Taurentian,” said Kurik. “It was an Assassin, a member of the Black Caste, in the uniform of a Taurentian, Tyrtaios, by name.”
“I do not understand,” she said.
“You have been deceived, misled,” said Kurik. “You are a hostage, who could be lightly sacrificed.”
“I have been treated well here,” she said.
“Of course,” said Kurik. “Why should you not be?”
“Only a few Ehn ago, I ordered robing,” she said.
“We were permitted to witness that,” he said, “from a concealed vantage point.”
“That was part of the deception?” she said.
“Of course,” said Kurik.
“I am a prisoner?” she said.
“Surely, consider the guard, outside,” said Kurik.
“He is there for my protection,” she said.
“To prevent your escape,” said Kurik.
“Slave,” said Lady Bina, “brush back your hood, sweep aside your veils.”
I did so.
“Am I in danger?” she asked.
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
“And slaves may not lie,” said Kurik.
“They may be instructed to do so,” she sai
d.
“I will speak briefly, and plainly,” said Kurik. “Lord Agamemnon still lives. He is active and dangerous. His cohorts are loyal and determined. He wishes to recruit Grendel to his service, as spy and tool, as Grendel is respected, trusted, and well known to the faction of Lord Arcesilaus, which Lord Agamemnon wishes to supplant. If Grendel does not give his oath, your life is forfeit.”
“Surely not,” she said.
“Dear Lady,” said Kurik, “I have no doubt that your intelligence is high, extremely so, but the data at its disposal, on which it must rely, is egregiously sparse, and bears little relation to the intrigues and complexities of this world. You are, forgive me, noble Lady, incredibly innocent and naïve. Your antecedents almost guarantee that. You are recently from a steel world, and you know little or nothing of this world, its customs, habits, and politics. You do not even have a Home Stone. How could you then expect, in a state such as Ar, rich and populous, to so simply ascend a throne? You lack family relations, connections, position, and power. Your ambition is unjustified, your hopes unfounded. If Marlenus knew of you, and truly desired you, would he not have confronted you in person, urging his suit with fervor?”
“But I am beautiful, am I not?” she asked.
“Very much so,” he said, “but so, too, are thousands of others, a thousand times more plausibly poised to realize such an ambition.”
“How am I to know what is true?” she asked.
“You can wait here to die,” he said, “and then the matter will be clear.”
“I am confused,” she said. “I do not know what to do.”
“We will try to get you out of the palace,” he said. “Then you will be safe, at least for a time. If Marlenus attempts to search for you, and recover you, with all the resources of the state, then you will know his suit is genuine. If he does not, then you will know I speak the truth. Accompanying us, you have nothing to lose; remaining here, your life is in jeopardy, unless Lord Grendel delivers his oath to Lord Agamemnon.”
“He must not,” said the Lady Bina.
“Come with us,” said Kurik.
“How can we leave the palace?” she asked.
“You will be hooded, and veiled, and dressed in the garments of the Lady Alexina. Accordingly, your progress from the palace should not be impeded.”
“What of the guard?” asked the Lady Bina.
“I shall inconvenience the guard,” said Kurik.
“What of the slave?” asked the Lady Bina.
“She is a slave,” said Kurik. He then turned to me. “Remove your garments, to the tunic,” he said, “and then assist the Lady Bina to assume her disguise.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
Shortly thereafter the Lady Bina was in the garments of the Lady Alexina, even to the grasp of the parasol, and I, now bared to tunic and collar, as was appropriate, was now again on my knees, for I was in the presence of the free.
“May I speak?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said.
“I understand that I am to be left here,” I said. “That is obvious.”
“Oh?” he said.
“Naturally I am uneasy,” I said.
“I would think so,” he said.
“My collar will protect me, I take it,” I said, “as I am a slave, a mere beast. I will merely be newly acquired, differently owned?”
“Commonly,” he said, “that would be the case. Who would slay a tharlarion or kaiila?”
“I do not wish to be differently owned,” I said.
“Oh?” he said.
“It is not only my body that is yours,” I said, “but my heart. You own the whole of me. It is the whole of me that is yours.”
“I do not understand,” he said, “speak clearly.”
I looked up at him, with fear. It is hard to be at the feet of a man, owned, in his collar, mastered, his, and not be overwhelmed with the heat and rush of blood, the desires, hopes, and needs of one’s sex. One knows oneself his property, his belonging. They are such magnificent, virile brutes, and one rejoices before them, at their feet, a succumbed slave. He dominates, we are dominated. He commands, and we, hoping to be found pleasing, hasten to obey. In our collars, we are returned to nature.
“I love you,” I said.
I cried out with misery, as he seized my hair, and yanked me to my feet, and cuffed me, twice, and I tasted blood in my mouth, and he threw me angrily to his feet, and I put my head down over his feet, my hair over them, my forehead pressed against them. “Forgive me, Master,” I said.
“Are you ready, Lady Bina?” inquired Kurik.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then,” said Kurik, “we shall call the guard.”
He stepped back from me.
“The slave is not uncomely,” said the Lady Bina.
“There are thousands better,” he said.
“If, as you say,” said the Lady Bina, “Kurii are involved in this, I do not think her collar will protect her. I know Kurii. There will be much rage and frustration. Some feed on humans. What would her collar be to them? What would her comeliness be to them? They will want satisfaction, retaliation, even blind, meaningless vengeance. She would be run for sport in the feeding lanes, she would be torn to pieces.”
“I agree,” said Kurik.
“Let her don the garments I discarded,” said the Lady Bina, “and we shall attempt to effect our departure together.”
“Our scheme would shortly come to ruination,” said Kurik, “for you would not be allowed to leave the palace.”
“If your claims are true, your story true,” she said.
“They are,” said Kurik, “and it is.”
“Then,” said the Lady Bina, “you have included the slave in your plans.”
“Yes,” said Kurik.
“She is a part of your plan,” said the Lady Bina.
“Certainly,” said Kurik.
“So she is condemned,” said the Lady Bina, “to the fangs of Kurii, or perhaps to the tortures of the house of Decius Albus?”
“Not at all,” said Kurik. “That is not my plan.”
I looked up, quickly.
“On your feet, Phyllis,” he said.
I sprang up.
“Recently,” said Kurik, “at the behest of Decius Albus, I, in the guise of a merchant envoy from a mythical city, Mytilene, was introduced in, and entertained in, the Commerce Court, one of the receiving courts of the palace, and there, in that guise, met numerous officiaries, administrators, dignitaries, guests, clerks, and such, most having one thing or another to do with the commerce of Ar. The slave accompanied me, and, on the way to, and from, the receiving chamber, we passed numerous guards. And guards, as you know, as other men, are attentive to the carriage, features, and limbs of slaves.”
“Yes, men are beasts,” said the Lady Bina. “Please, continue.”
“Phyllis,” he said, “a barbarian, may not even be aware of how she was seen, and how she might be recalled.”
I thought I was much more aware of that sort of thing than he suspected. I did not think it took long on Gor for a woman, collared and tunicked, to realize how men looked upon her. Who could mistake those bold, appraising glances, those frank, zestful inspections, which well reminded a girl she was a purchasable object. Here, at least in the case of a slave, there was nothing furtive, sly, quick, apologetic, or clandestine in those male looks, no more than to regard a dog or horse on my former world. Similarly, on Gor, the excitements and glories of biology, even in the case of free women, have never been denounced as shameful nor treated as crimes, inviting the intervention of guardsmen. Rather they are welcomed and celebrated.
“It is natural,” said Kurik, “for a guard, or a man, looking upon a slave, to ponder how she might look, stripped, and helpless, chained at his slave ring.”
�
�And you expect,” said the Lady Bina, “that the guards will recall the slave, doubtless even associating her with you?”
“Certainly,” he said, “they will not think twice about it.”
“Go on,” she said.
“Recently,” he said, “when we attended the supposed trade meeting in the receiving chamber, we entered through the east gate of the palace. The guards should remember us there, or, at least, the slave. Men tend to remember slaves. This afternoon, however, we entered through the west gate of the palace, I and the supposed Lady Alexina.”
“Where, may I ask,” inquired the Lady Bina, “is the Lady Alexina?”
“Where it is quite appropriate for her to be,” said Kurik, “chained, naked, in a basement.”
“I see,” said the Lady Bina.
“Now,” said Kurik, “we will exit though the east gate of the palace, the supposed Lady Alexina, myself, and the slave. The guards at the east gate will assume that we had entered through the west gate and are now merely exiting by means of the east gate. They will think nothing of the Lady Alexina, I, and a slave, leaving by means of the east gate. Thus, there will be no question as to where the additional person, in this case, a slave, came from.”
“What of the guard?” asked the Lady Bina.
“This lamp stand should do nicely,” said Kurik, lifting, and hefting, the sturdy artifact. “And, I think, those drape pulls should do nicely for bonds, and, surely, there is enough veiling, and such, about to serve as a gag.”
Shortly thereafter the Lady Bina summoned the guard into the room, while Kurik remained to the side, rather behind the door, as it would open. The guard became aware of Kurik’s presence at about the same time that Kurik employed the lamp stand.
Seven or eight Ehn later Kurik, the Lady Bina, in the robes of the Lady Alexina, and I were ready to exit the Renata Chamber.
I could still taste the blood in my mouth, from the cuffing I had received. What a fool I had been! Did I not know that I was a slave? Did I not know that there was a collar on my neck, a brand on my thigh? Did I not know that slaves were worthless animals, that we were to be demeaned, scorned, exploited, worked, and ravished, that our purpose was to serve our masters and see to it that they received from us, at any moment they might desire, the most inordinate pleasures derivable from the body of a slave?
Plunder of Gor Page 57