The King

by John Norman

"Shall our little critic be lashed?" inquired the fellow, of the tables.

  "Let her perform!" called a man.

  "Interest them," said the man with the whip.

  "Please, no!" she wept.

  The whip snapped.

  The men laughed as the distraught beauty attempted to interest them.

  "Is that the best you can do?" inquired the man with the whip. Again the whip cracked.

  "More," said the man with the whip.

  There was laughter.

  "It seems the next stroke must be upon your body," said the fellow with the whip.

  "No, no, Master!" she wept.

  He held her left arm with his left hand, and was behind her.

  "Aii!" she suddenly cried.

  There was, again, laughter, but this laughter was one not only of amusement, but one also of genuine interest.

  Gently, but surely, and unexpectedly, had the whip, coiled, touched her.

  The proud woman was now no more than a humbled, scarlet mass of shame in his hand.

  "It seems your body betrays your mouth," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Lying is not permitted to a slave girl," he said.

  "No, Master," she said.

  "Do you think, truly, you are different from other slaves?" he asked.

  "No, Master," she said.

  "Do you think you will be an inert slave?" he asked.

  "No, Master!" she said. "Please, Master, let me be won swiftly!''

  "Inertness is not permitted in a slave," he said.

  "No, Master!" she said.

  She was soon won.

  Swiftly, eagerly, she crawled to her new master.

  Another woman, one eager to be won, was brought to the circle.

  "Hold, Abrogastes!" called Farrix, of the Borkons, who had risen to his feet.

  The woman in the circle shrank down, tiny.

  The dice stopped rattling.

  Abrogastes turned toward Farrix, for Farrix was on his feet, and a chieftain.

  "Let the pellets be cast," said Farrix, grimly.

  "Beware, father," whispered Ingeld.

  Abrogastes gave no sign he had heard the warning of Ingeld, Ingeld, who kept his thoughts muchly to himself.

  Huta, lying in the dirt before the dais, trembled, sensing suddenly that her fate might cease to depend on such simple matters as guilt or justice, or her desirability or lack of desirability as a female slave, but on other matters, subtle political matters, on rankings, on contests of will, on maneuverings for power.

  "Of course," said Abrogastes, affably.

  She knew that Abrogastes despised and hated her, for her role in the business of the Ortungs, but she also suspected that he, the thought both alarming and stirring her, found her not without interest as a slave. Surely more than once she had detected in his eyes, or thought she had, keen desire, even fierce desire, as for a slave to be uncompromisingly mastered and ravished. She had no hope of winning his love, that hope of almost every slave girl, to win the love of her master, but hoped that she might, if only by years of an abject slave's service and devotion, win perhaps at least some particle of a begrudging sufferance.

  "How will Abrogastes, lord of the Drisriaks, cast his pellet?" inquired Farrix.

  "Sacrifice her, father," whispered Ingeld.

  "How will Farrix cast his pellet?" inquired Abrogastes.

  "She is not worth the collar!" said another Borkon.

  "But she is not without interest," said another Borkon, evenly.

  The hand of Farrix went to his dagger, but he withdrew it, and it was almost as though he had not moved.

  "The matter is trivial, and it had escaped my mind," said Abrogastes.

  He nodded to the clerk.

  "Let the pellets be cast!" called the clerk.

  Huta was pulled to her knees, and turned to face the scales, that she might witness the deciding of her fate.

  "Death to her!" cried a man.

  "Life!" cried another.

  The feasters then, the women in the circle forgotten, even she in the smaller circle, waiting, small, kneeling there, to be won, began to leave the tables and file, one by one, to the table of pellets, and then each, to cries of acclamation, or anger, or derision, cast their pellets, those small, leaden counters, into the pan of their choice.

  Huta could scarcely kneel.

  "Straighten your body, head up," said the fellow who had positioned her. "Place your hands, wrists crossed, as though they were bound, at the small of your back."

  She tried to comply.

  Pellets struck into the pans.

  The pan of death began to descend even more.

  "See she who was once the proud Huta!" laughed a man.

  "See the slave," said another.

  "She trembles," said another.

  "She cannot even hold herself upon her knees," laughed another.

  "Tie her wrists behind her back," said Abrogastes.

  "Blindfold her," said Abrogastes.

  "Put her on a double leash," said Abrogastes.

  These things were done, that she might better hold her position, and then she knelt much as she had, save that now her small wrists, in reality, were fastened behind her back, her eyes were now bandaged, with a folded scarf, and on her neck were two leashes, the straps, short and taut, extending from the two leash collars on her neck to the fists of her keepers, one on each side. The residual lengths of the straps were muchly coiled, the higher coils wrapped about their fists.

  Huta moaned.

  The pellets, unseen by her now, continued to strike into the pans.

  She could not now, held as she was by the leashes, slip from her knees.

  "You can see the pans, father," said Ingeld. "Give her up."

  "What is she to me?" said Abrogastes.

  "Give her up," said Ingeld.

  "No!" said Hrothgar. He rose from his place and cast a pellet into the pan for life.

  "See how Hrothgar casts his pellet," said Abrogastes to Ingeld.

  "He sees only the shapely limbs of a slave," said Ingeld.

  "How shall I cast my pellet?" Abrogastes asked the clerk.

  "You will cast it as you wish, milord," said the clerk.

  "How should I cast my pellet?" Abrogastes asked his shieldsman, his own great sword in its sheath, over the fellow's left shoulder.

  "I shall defend my lord to the death," said the shieldsman, "whatever he does, whatever be his decision."

  Hrothgar returned to his place, casting a dark glance at Ingeld.

  "Hrothgar is a fool," said Ingeld. "He cares only for his horses and falcons."

  "And, it seems," said a man, "for slave girls."

  "Yes," said Ingeld, scowling, "and for slave girls."

  The pellets continued to be placed into the pans.

  Huta trembled. Tears ran from her eyes, beneath the blindfold, to stain her cheeks.

  The warriors, the merchants, the envoys, all, filed past the scales.

  "The matter is evening itself," said a man, wonderingly.

  Huta lifted her head, startled. She strained, as if to see through the dark layers of the blindfold. Her small wrists moved helplessly in the tight, confining thongs.

  "Now it inclines again toward death," said a man.

  The hall was now muchly silent, the eyes of the men upon the scales.

  The guests filed past, each putting his pellet into the pan of his choice.

  "Remove her blindfold," said Abrogastes.

  The blindfold was removed, and Huta saw that the pointer on the scale was poised, as though indecisive, restless, wavering, at the midpoint of the scale.

  "It seems your beauty is not without interest, slut," said a man.

  "She danced well," said another.

  "I think she might make an excellent slave," said another.

  "Not everyone who may has cast a pellet," said Farrix, quietly.

  He looked at Ingeld.

  Ingeld looked at Abrogastes.

&n
bsp; Ingeld then went to the pan and cast his pellet.

  "He casts it for life!" said a man.

  Abrogastes then descended to the floor and went to the table.

  The scale, still, was delicately difficult to read, so many pellets there were, so evenly were they distributed, so small the weight of each.

  "It points, does it not, to the collar," said a man.

  At one termination of the dial on the scale there was the representation of a skull, at the other the representation of a slave collar.

  Abrogastes picked up a pellet.

  "Remember Ortog, remember the Ortungs, remember the division of the nation, remember treason," said Farrix.

  "I remember those things," said Abrogastes.

  "How then will you cast your pellet, mighty Abrogastes?" asked Farrix.

  "As I please," said Abrogastes.

  The hall was silent.

  Abrogastes then tossed his pellet into the pan of life.

  "Aii!" cried men, and others.

  "Shieldsman," said Abrogastes.

  The shieldsman came to him.

  "My sword," said Abrogastes.

  The weapon was unsheathed, and placed in his hand.

  Abrogastes then threw the mighty weapon into the pan of life, and it bore the balance of the scale almost to the vertical. Pellets spilled from the pans. The pan of life, that of the collar, was borne as low as it might be, without breaking the small chains which held it to the balance.

  "And how will you, noble Farrix, cast your pellet?" asked Abrogastes.

  "For life, of course," he said. He cast his pellet into the pan of life, it now so much descended. "Hail to the Alemanni," he said.

  "Hail to the Alemanni," said Abrogastes.

  The keepers who held the leashes of Huta played out leather, lowering her to the ground.

  "Continue your gambling, my friends, my brothers," said Abrogastes, raising his hand.

  "Up, on your knees, slave!" said a fellow at the smaller circle, to the woman waiting to be won.

  Again there was shouting.

  "Forty!"

  "Forty-six!"

  Abrogastes looked down at the slave who, overcome, had lost consciousness.

  "Take the leashes off her neck," he said. "Leave her bound. Revive her."

  Then he said to another fellow, "Bring a common slave collar for her."

  Dice rattled upon the boards.

  Another slave was won.

  And another was put to the circle, and another summoned, bells jangling, from the ditched island to the place of readiness.

  Cold water was splashed upon the unconscious, fainted, overcome, bound Huta, who, coughing, gasping, frightened, comprehending that her hands were still bound, regained consciousness.

  She looked wildly at Abrogastes, the earth muddied about her.

  Abrogastes retrieved his sword from the pan in which it lay, withdrawing it from amongst the three tiny chains, and gave it to his shieldsman, who returned it to its sheath.

  He then returned his attention to Huta, while the gambling went on, in the background.

  Huta scrambled to her knees, and put her head to the ground before Abrogastes.

  "Collar her," said Abrogastes.

  One of his men crouched by the slave, her head still to the muddied dirt, and fastened a slave collar on her neck. It was a common slave collar. It fit closely. It locked in the back.

  "Now that she has been collared, throw her a piece of meat," said Abrogastes.

  "On your belly, slave," said a man.

  Huta went to her belly and the meat was thrown into the mud, before her.

  Eagerly, starving, her hands bound behind her, she seized the bit of meat in her small, fine teeth and, pulling it about, gnawing, trying to get it in her mouth, fed on it.

  The leader of the three display slaves, as well as her two companions, all chained to the ring on the dais, frightened, watched her. She, and her companions, commonly fed from pans, put on the floor, their heads down, on all fours. In such small ways, and others, a woman can be reminded she is a slave.

  Another woman was won, and another brought to the small circle.

  Much attention was on the gambling.

  Granicus had won a second slave.

  She was now tethered, like the first, beneath his table.

  Huta, ravenous, finished the bit of meat, but there was no more.

  She looked to the keeper, beggingly.

  "We must be concerned for your figure," he said. "Let us keep it trim."

  "May I have water, Master?" she begged.

  "You have water," he said.

  She put down her head and lapped at muddied water.

  It had not been thus when she was a consecrated virgin, and priestess.

  Ingeld regarded her. Her flanks, it was true, were not without interest.

  Another woman was won, and another put to the circle, and another readied.

  "My lord will retire now?" asked the clerk.

  "Yes," said Abrogastes.

  Two men, secondary shieldsmen, rose from their places, to accompany Abrogastes, and his shieldsman, from the hall.

  Abrogastes indicated Huta to one of the keepers. "See that she is washed, and combed, and perfumed, and given a slave rag, and bring her to my hut tonight."

  Huta looked up, wildly, frightened, gratefully, to her master.

  "You may kneel," said a keeper, kindly.

  Huta scrambled up, and then, on her knees, unbidden, crawled to Abrogastes.

  She put her head down to his feet.

  He seemed not to notice.

  "That one,'' he said, indicating the chief of the display slaves to a keeper, "prepare her, and bring her to my hut tonight."

  "Master!" cried the blonde, joyfully, lifting her small, chained wrists, to the extent that her chains permitted.

  "Master!" cried Huta, raising her head, in disappointment, in protest. "Is it not I who am to be brought to your hut?"

  "No, I!" cried the blonde.

  "I!" said Huta.

  "I love you, my master!" said the blonde.

  "I love you, my master!" cried Huta.

  "Is it true?" asked Abrogastes of Huta, looking down upon her.

  "Yes, Master," she whispered, putting down her head.

  "With the hedged-in, qualified, partial, careful, incomplete love of a free woman?" he asked.

  "No, Master," she said.

  "With the profound wholeness of a slave's love?" asked Abrogastes.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "I juice when you but look upon me, Master!" said the blonde.

  Her companions gasped.

  How dare she admit such a thing! But then she was now only a slave.

  Then her companions blushed and put down their heads. They, too, were only slaves. They, too, had knelt before masters. Their bodies could be easily checked. And if they lied, they would be beaten.

  "And what of you, little slave?" asked Abrogastes of Huta.

  "Yes, Master," she whispered. "Many times, at your least glance, I have juiced."

  Abrogastes regarded her.

  "Though you have not deigned to touch me," she said, "you have conquered me, and I am yours."

  "Before I met men such as you, Master," said the blonde, "I knew men only of the empire. Before I met men such as you, I did not know that such men existed, men before whom a woman can be naught but an obedient and eager slave."

  "You will share my couch tonight," said Abrogastes, to the blonde, "and you," he said to Huta, "will be our serving slave."

  "But what of my needs, Master?" asked Huta.

  "You have not even begun to experience needs," said Abrogastes.

  "Yes, Master," said Huta.

  Abrogastes then turned to the assemblage. "Continue with your sport," he said. "And outside, there are more than four hundred more, and though they are not high ladies, yet they are delicate and refined, and of the empire, and will serve as well as any, I ween, in the furs, and at the ovens, and the la
undry troughs, and in the pantries and butteries. They are to be distributed to any who did not win in the hall."

  Cheers met this announcement.

  Men were gambling, too, among themselves, for many of the other gifts which had been distributed. Only the rifles, it seems, were not put up as stakes.

  One man, leading two of the slaves on tethers, their wrists bound behind them, passed Abrogastes, eager, it seemed, to get to his quarters.

  "Hail, Abrogastes!" he said.

  "Lash them, that they may understand that they are slaves, and then enjoy them," said Abrogastes.

  "Yes, noble Abrogastes," said the man. "Hail, Abrogastes!"

  A keeper had freed the three display slaves, and their leader, her arm in the grasp of another keeper, was being hurried from the hall, doubtless to the heat shed, with its large wooden tubs.

  As Abrogastes left the hall, Farrix, the Borkon, standing by the side door, spoke to him. "Hail to the Alemanni," he said.

  "Hail to the Alemanni," said Abrogastes and, in the purple cloak, trimmed with the fur of the ice bear, took his leave, followed by the clerk, and three shieldsmen.

  "On your feet, slut," said a keeper to Huta.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "You are to be congratulated, on surviving the decision of the scales," he said.

  "Thank you, Master," she said.

  She shuddered as he touched her, with the freedom of a keeper.

  "It seems you will live," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "At least until morning," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said, trembling.

  "Among the Drisriaks," he said, "we throw those who are not good slaves to the dogs."

  "I will try to be a good slave."

  "See that you do," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  She was about to be conducted from the hall by the keeper, when she found her way barred by Ingeld.

  Swiftly, confronted by a free man, she knelt.

  She kept her head down, that she not risk meeting the eyes of a free man.

  "If you are to be sent barefoot, in a slave rag, to the hut of a noble," said Ingeld, "you must be brushed and combed, and washed."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  Ingeld frightened her, even more than Abrogastes.

  "Do you love your master?" inquired Ingeld.

  "Yes, Master!" said Huta.

  "You will love whomever the whip tells you to love," said Ingeld.

  "Yes, Master," she whispered.

  "Take the slave away," said Ingeld.