by John Norman
"I am grateful to you all," I assured them.
Slave girls crowded about me, to pour my paga. The collars were lovely on their throats. There were no free women, of course, in the tavern. Gorean taverns can be dangerous places for free women. "Master!" breathed more than one of the lovely slaves, vying to pour me paga. Several knelt about me, breathing quickly, their lips parted, their eyes shining. Several reached out, timidly, to touch me. I had had similar experiences, even with free women, after the stable bouts, though they, of course, had been more discreet, though scarcely more so, than the muchly revealed, ragged, excited, clustering, barefoot, collared slaves. The free woman has her dignity. The slave knows what she is for. The heat in women, when it begins to blaze, speaks to them of being owned, and it is in the collars of the strong, of victors, that they wish to find themselves. It is to such men, the strong, the victors, that they plead to submit.
The free woman, when aroused, thinks collar. The slave, when aroused, rejoices that she is already in one.
The proprietor approached our table and I stood up, holding my goblet of paga, to welcome him. "You fought well, Jason," he said. "Thank you," I said. I looked down. Kneeling at my right knee, her cheek against my knee, was the red-haired dancing girl. She looked up at me timidly, her eyes shining. As she knelt the slender chains at her collar depended to the polished floor. "You fought well, Jason," said the proprietor. "She is yours for the night. Use her for your pleasure." "My thanks, Kind Sir," I said. I lifted the paga which I held, saluting the proprietor and, too, those at the table. "My thanks to you all," I said. Felicitations were exchanged. I then transferred the paga to my left hand. I then snapped my fingers and held my right hand, open, at my hip. Swiftly the girl rose to her feet and, half crouching, put her head by my hand. I fastened the fingers of my hand deeply and firmly in her red hair. She winced, and kissed at my thigh. I then, the goblet of paga in my left hand, her hair in my right, dragged her beside me, her slender chains rustling, to the nearest empty alcove.
6
I Hear of the Markets of Victoria;
I will Travel There
Women are almost always auctioned naked. That way a man can see what he is buying.
I turned away from the block in the barnlike structure in Fina, one of the many towns on the Vosk. I heard the auctioneer's calls fading behind me. I thought he would get a good price for the pretty brunette. She was one of the last items of the evening. Before she had been dragged to the surface of the block, I had examined the remaining girls in the ready cage. She whom I sought was not among them.
Outside the barnlike structure I was stopped by two guardsmen.
"You are Jason, the brawler?" asked one.
"I am Jason," I admitted.
"You will leave Fina by tonight," advised the guardsman.
"Very well," I said.
It had been my intention, anyway, to leave Fina before morning. This had not been the first time, incidentally, that guardsmen had suggested that I leave a town. It had happened once before, at Tancred's Landing.
Several days ago I had departed from Lara. The troops from Ar, tarnsmen, had not burned Lara. Indeed, perhaps surprisingly, they had done little but clear the town of river pirates and, here and there, gather in a bit of loot and some women, mostly female refugees from Vonda who fell into their hands. Their action, however, the strike to Lara, had caused considerable consternation among the forces of Lara, marching toward Vonda. Things, in this sense, had worked out well for the men of Ar, for the troops of Lara had, in consternation, hesitated in their march northward. They were not, thus, involved in the action which took place shortly afterward northeast of Vonda. In this action, however, the forces of Port Olni had been, unexpectedly, abetted by troops from Ti, under the command of Thandar of Ti, one of the sons of Ebullius Gaius Cassius. The battle had been sharp but indecisive. At nightfall of the second day both armies had withdrawn from the field. Ar's committed infantry had been outnumbered but its mobility and its support by their tarn cavalry had compensated to some extent for its lack of weight as a striking force. Thandar of Ti, interestingly, had not challenged Ar in the skies, but had deployed the mercenaries of Artemidorus of Cos in actions against Ar's supply lines. Eventually, after several days of uneasy encampments, the haruspexes of Port Olni, Ti and Ar, meeting on a truce ground, had determined, by taking the auspices, read from the liver and entrails of slaughtered verr, that it was propitious for both armies to withdraw. In this sense, no honor, on either side, was sacrificed. The readings on these auspices had been challenged only by haruspexes of Vonda and Cos. It was generally understood, or felt, that neither the Salerian Confederation nor the city of Ar desired a full-scale conflict. Vonda, it was clearly understood, conspiring with Cos, had initiated hostilities. In burning and sacking Vonda Ar had, for most practical purposes, satisfied its sense of military propriety. Similarly, in stopping the advance of the troops of Ar, the Salerian Confederation could feel that it had maintained its own respect. The tarnsmen of Artemidorus, incidentally, had not molested the slave wagons moving southward. The drivers of these wagons, with their escorts, had only thrown back the canvas to reveal that they carried chained women. The tarnsmen of Artemidorus, then, had flown past, overhead, heedless of the uplifted hands and cries of the women. There is a general Gorean feeling that if a woman has fallen slave she is to remain a slave. The women were then silenced with whips. I think there is little doubt that the cessation of hostilities in the north was in no little part a function of the generosity of the men of Ar, a not impolitic generosity in my opinion, in sparing Lara the fate of Vonda. They had demonstrated that they could have destroyed Lara, but they had not seen fit to do so. This was taken as an expression of disinterest on the part of Ar in all-out warfare with the Salerian Confederation. Also, of course, in the future, this action might tend to divide the confederation in its feelings toward Ar. When it had become clear, incidentally, that Ar had, for most practical purposes, spared Lara, the troops of Lara, not bothering to join with those of Port Olni and Ti, had returned to their city. There would now be sentiment in Lara favoring Ar. This would give Ar political leverage at the confluence of the Olni and Vosk, a strategic point if Cos should ever choose to move in force eastward along the Vosk. Lara was the pivot between the Salerian Confederation and the Vosk towns.
"Hurry!" called the guardsman.
I lifted my hand, acknowledging that I had heard him, and continued my pace toward the wharves of Fina.
For several weeks I had moved from one river town to the next, examining slave markets and attempting to obtain information on the whereabouts of the pirate, Kliomenes. Understandably I encountered few willing informants. Many people, I was sure, knew more of this fellow than they admitted. His name, and that of his captain, Policrates, were apparently feared on the river. These river pirates were not, it must be understood, a few scattered crews of cutthroats. Various bands had their own strongholds and ships. It was not unusual that a single captain had as many as three or four hundred men and eight to ten ships. Similarly there were relationships among these bands, divisions of territory and alliances. They were a power on the river.
I stepped aside to let a free woman, veiled, and a child pass.
I had gone from Lara to White Water, using the barge canal, to circumvent the rapids, and from thence to Tancred's Landing. I had later voyaged downriver to Iskander, Forest Port, and Ar's Station. Ar's Station, incidentally, is near the site where there was a gathering, several years ago, of the horde of Pa-Kur, of the Caste of Assassins, who was leading an alliance of twelve cities, augmented by mercenaries and assassins, against the city of Ar. This war is celebrated, incidentally, in the Gorean fashion, in several songs. Perhaps most famous among them are the songs of Tarl of Bristol. The action is reputed to have taken place in 10,110 C.A., Contasta Ar, from the Founding of Ar. It was now, in that chronology, the year 10,127. Ar's Station, incidentally, did not exist at the time of the massing of the horde of Pa-Kur. It
was established four years afterward, as an outpost and trading station, on the south bank of the Vosk. It also commands, in effect, the northern terminus of one of the great roads, the Viktel Aria, or Ar's Triumph, leading toward Ar. This is also the road popularly known as the Vosk Road, particularly by those viewing it from a riverward direction. West of Ar's Station on the river I had visited Jort's Ferry, Point Alfred, Jasmine, Siba, Sais and Sulport. I had stopped also at Hammerfest and Ragnar's Hamlet, the latter actually, now, a good-sized town. Its growth might be contrasted with that of Tetrapoli, much further west on the river. Ragnar's Hamlet began as a small village and, from this central nucleus, expanded. Tetrapoli, on the other hand, began as four separate towns, Ri, Teibar, Heiban, and Azdak, as legend has it founded by four brothers. These towns grew together along the river and were eventually consolidated as a polity. The four districts of the city, as might be supposed, retain the names of the original towns. The expression 'Tetrapoli' in Gorean, incidentally, means "Four Cities" or "Four Towns."
I made my way now toward the quays of Fina. Here and there men passed me. I was then near the waterfront district. I stepped aside as a string of chained girls, stripped to the waist, was herded past me. They were being taken to one of the stout log warehouses, whose doors were marked with the Kajira sign, to be held for sale. They were sullen in their chains. Some of them looked at me, wondering perhaps if a man such as myself would buy them. The log warehouses for slaves are commonly double-walled and the girls are kept stripped within them, and commonly wear ankle chains, except when the guards wish otherwise. Escape, for all practical purposes, is a statistical impossibility for the Gorean slave girl. Too, the penalties even for attempted escape are often severe. Hamstringing is not uncommon. The hope of the Gorean slave girl is not escape, but to please her master. I inspected the girls as they passed me. She whom I sought was not among them.
"Passage, Master?" inquired a fellow.
"I would deal with others," I told him.
"We are cheap," he called. "Cheap!"
"Thank you," I said to him, and continued on. I had discovered, in various towns, that I was likely to get the best fares at the quays themselves.
On the way down to the river I passed four of the log warehouses whose doors were marked with the Kajira sign. I saw tiny barred windows high in their outer walls. During daylight hours a small amount of light can filter through such a window and then fall through a matching, somewhat lower window, to the interior of the holding area. There are similar apertures, too, sometimes, in the roofs of such structures. In some of the warehouses, incidentally, those which seem to be but one story high, if that, the logged holding areas are substantially underground, as though in a log-walled, sunken room. Windows are commonly small and from eight to ten feet above a girl's head. The light in such structures is, at best, dim. The floor areas are commonly wood except for a central strip of dirt some twenty feet wide. This is primarily for drainage. A network of welded iron bars, set an inch or two beneath the surface, underlies the planking of the floor and the surface of the dirt. Straw is scattered at the edges of the room, on the wood. In the log walls, at various heights, but usually less than a yard from the floor, there occur slave rings. The ground level is commonly reached by ascending a dirt ramp. Such places, as one might suppose, are usually characterized by the smells of held slaves. "Eat!" I heard a man say, from within one of those structures. Then I heard the lash of a whip and a girl's cry of pain. "Yes, Master!" she cried. "Yes, Master!"
I continued toward the quays. Sometimes I almost despaired of finding Miss Beverly Henderson. How could one hope to find one girl among thousands, even tens of thousands, scattered throughout the cities and towns, the fields and villages, of Gor. Too, if she had been transported by caravan or tarn she might, by now, be almost anywhere. Yet I was determined to continue my search. I had two things clearly in my favor. I knew she had been taken recently, and by Kliomenes, the pirate. My search was thus far from hopeless. Indeed, I had little doubt but what I might find Miss Henderson, if I could but find in what market, or markets, Kliomenes would see fit to dispose of his most recent prizes.
"You there, Fellow," said a captain, at the quays. "You seem strong. Look you for work?"
"I am intending to go downriver," I said.
"We are bound for Tafa," he said. "We are short an oarsman."
The next towns west on the river were Victoria and Tafa. West of Tafa was Port Cos, which had been founded by settlers from Cos over a century ago. The major towns west of Port Cos, discounting minor towns, were Tetrapoli, Ven and Turmus, Ven at the junction of the Ta-Thassa Cartius and the Vosk, and Turmus, at the eastern end of the Vosk's great delta, the last town on the river itself.
"I would go to Victoria," I said. That was the next town west on the river.
"You are an honest fellow, are you not?" asked the captain.
"I think so, reasonably so," I said, warily. "Why?"
"If you are an honest fellow," said the captain, "why would you wish to go to Victoria?"
"Surely there are honest doings in Victoria," I said.
"I suppose so," said the captain.
"Is it a dangerous place?" I asked.
"You must be new on the river," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"Avoid Victoria," he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Are you a slaver?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"Then avoid Victoria," he said.
"Why?" I asked.
"It is a den of thieves," he said. "It is little more than a market and slave town."
"There is an important slave market there?" I asked.
"You can sometimes get cheap prices on luscious goods there," he said.
"Why are the prices sometimes so cheap?" I asked.
"Girls who cost nothing can be sold cheaply," he said.
"The marketed girls are then primarily captures?" I asked.
"Of course," he said.
"I do not understand," I said.
"It is well known on the river," he said.
"What is well known?" I asked.
"That Victoria is one of the major outlets for the merchandise of river pirates."
"I must go there," I said eagerly.
"I am going to Tafa," he said. "I will not put in at Victoria."
"Let me row for you to the vicinity of Victoria," I said. "Then put me ashore. I will find my way afoot into the town."
"It will be useful to have another oarsman," he said, "even as far as Victoria, and we will have the current with us."
"Yes," I said.
"Perhaps, too," he said, "we could pick up a new oarsman west of Victoria."
"Perhaps," I said.
He looked at me.
"You need pay me nothing," I said. "I will draw the oar for free."
"You are serious?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
He grinned. "We leave within the Ahn," he said.
7
I Arrive in Victoria;
I Hear of the Sales Barn of Lysander
"What am I offered for this girl?" called the auctioneer. "What am I offered for this girl?"
It was a blond-haired peasant girl, thick-ankled and sturdy, from south of the Vosk. She was being sold from a rough platform on the wharves of Victoria. She wore a chain collar.
"Two tarsk bits," came a call from the crowd.
I pressed through the throngs on the wharves. The wharves were crowded with goods and men. The masts of river galleys bristled at the quays. There was the smell of the river, and fish.
"I have heard the topaz is being brought east," said a merchant, speaking to another merchant.
"It bodes not well for security on the river," said his fellow.
I thrust past them. Then I drew back, quickly. A brown sleen threw itself to the end of a short, heavy chain. It snarled. It bared its fangs. Such a beast could take a leg from a man at the thigh, with a single motion of those great jaws.
"Down, Taba," said one of the merchants.
Hissing, the beast crouched down, its shoulder blades still prominent under its excited, half-lifted fur, its four hind legs still tensed beneath it. It seemed to me not unlikely that it might, if it had such a will, tear loose the very ring in the boards to which it was chained. I backed away. The merchants, paying me no more attention, continued their conversation. "Victoria has refused the tribute," one of them was saying.
"That is foolish," said a fellow.
"She thinks it is enough to allow them their markets," said a man.
"No," said another, "they will have both, as before, the tribute and the markets."
"They think they can find no other markets," said the second man.
"That is foolish," said the first.
"They could take their business to Tafa," said the second.
"Or return it to Victoria, once she is properly chastened," said the first.
"That is true," said the second.
"Indeed," said the first, "they cannot permit Victoria this insolence. Her example might be followed by every small town on the river."
"They will feel Victoria must be punished," said the second.
"Perhaps that is why the topaz is being brought east," said the first.
"It would be the first time in ten years," said the second.
"Yet, it is interesting," said the first, "for I would not think they would truly need the topaz to subdue Victoria."
"They are strong enough without it," agreed the second.
"Perhaps then it is only a rumor that the topaz is being brought east," said the first.
"Let us hope so," said the second.
"If it is being brought east," said the first, "I think it betokens more than the disciplining of Victoria."
"I would fear so," agreed the second.
I then turned away and left the vicinity of the merchants. I had not understood their conversation.