by John Norman
I looked at her, disgustedly. "What happened?" I asked.
She looked down. "I tried to bend him to my will," she said. "He sold me."
I looked away, out through the bars. The fog had now dispelled. The morning sun was bright on the surface of the river.
"In every woman," said Ute, "there is a Free Companion and a slave girl. The Free Companion seeks for her companion, and the slave girl seeks her master."
"That is absurd," I said.
"Are you not a female?" asked Ute.
"Of course," I said.
"Then," said Ute, "there is a slave girl in you that wants her master."
"You are a fool," I told her, savagely. "A fool!"
"You are a female," said Ute. "What sort of man could master you?"
"No man could master me!" I told her.
"In your dreams," she asked, "what sort of man is it who touches you, who binds you and carries you away, who takes you to his fortress, who forces you to do his bidding?"
I recalled how, outside the penthouse, hurrying to the garage, a man had looked at me, and had not looked away, and how, fleeing, branded, frightened, helpless, I had felt, for the first time in my life, vulnerably and radically female. I recalled, too, how in the bungalow, when I had examined the mark on my thigh, and the collar that was then at my throat, how I had felt, briefly, helpless, owned, a captive, the property of others. I recalled the brief fantasy which had passed through my mind of myself, in such a band, marked as I was, naked in the arms of a barbarian. I had shuddered, frightened. Never before had I felt such a feeling. I recalled I had been curious for the touch of a man—perhaps for that of a master? I could not rid my mind of the brief feeling I had felt. It had recurred in my mind, from time to time, particularly at night in the wagon. Once it had made me feel so lonely and restless that I had wept. Two times I had heard other girls crying in the wagon. Once, Ute.
"I do not have such dreams," I told her.
"Oh," said Ute.
"El-in-or is a cold fish," volunteered Lana.
I glared at her, tears in my eyes.
"No," said Ute, "El-in-or is only sleeping."
Lana looked across the cage. "El-in-or wants a master," she said.
"No!" I screamed, weeping. "No! No!"
The girls then, except for Ute, but even including Inge, began to laugh and cry out, mocking me, in a singsong voice, "El-in-or wants a master! El-in-or wants a master!"
"No!" I cried, and turned away, putting my face against the bars.
Ute put her arms about me. "Do not make El-in-or weep," she scolded the other girls.
I hated them, even Ute. They were slaves, slaves!
"Look!" cried Inge, pointing upward.
Far away, through the sky, from the east of Laura, following the forest line, there came a flight of tarnsmen, perhaps forty of them, mounted on the great, fierce, hawklike saddlebirds of Gor, the huge, swift, predatory, ferocious tarns, called Brothers of the Wind. The men seemed small on the backs of the great birds. They carried spears, and were helmeted. Shields hung on the left sides of the saddles.
I had heard of such birds, and such men, of course. Indeed, it was such who had attacked Targo earlier, to the south, before he had added a confused, lost, wandering barbarian girl to his chain. But these were the first examples of such that I had seen.
The girls, thrilled, pressed against the bars, crying out and pointing.
They were far off, but even from the distance I found myself frightened. I wondered what manner of men such men might be, that they could master such winged monsters. I was terrified. I shrank back in the cage.
Targo came forward on the barge, and, shielding his eyes against the early morning sun, looked upward. He spoke to the one-eyed guard, who stood behind him. "It is Haakon of Skjern," he said.
The one-eyed guard nodded.
Targo seemed pleased.
The tarnsmen had now, somewhere behind Laura, brought their great birds to the earth.
"The compound of Haakon is outside of Laura, to the north," said Targo.
Then Targo and the one-eyed guard returned toward the stern of the barge, where two of the bargemen handled the great steering oars. There were six in the crew of the barge, the man who directed the two tharlarion, the two helmsmen, the captain, and two other bargemen, who attended to matters on the barge, and handled mooring and casting off. One of the latter had locked the slave cage.
We were now better than two thirds of the way across the broad river.
We could see stone, and timber and barrels of fish and salt stored on docks on the shore. Behind the docks were long, planked ramps leading up to warehouses. The warehouses seemed constructed of smoothed, heavy timbers, stained and varnished. Most appeared reddish. Almost all had roofs with wooden shingles, painted black. Many were ornamented, particularly above the great double doors, with carvings and woodwork, painted in many colors. Through the great doors I could see large central areas, and various floors, reached by more ramps. There seemed many goods in the warehouses. I could see men moving about, inside, and on the ramps, and about the docks. Various barges were being loaded and unloaded. Except for villages, Laura was the only civilization in the region. Lydius, the free port at the mouth of the Laurius, was more than two hundred pasangs downstream. The new girl had been Rena of Lydius, of the Builders, one of the five high castes of Gor. She still lay, secured, in the wagon. I expected Targo would keep her hooded and gagged in Laura, for it was possible she might be known there. I smiled to myself. She would not escape Targo. Then I shook the bars with rage.
The tharlarion now turned slowly in the broad river, near Laura, and, under the stick, and cries, of their driver, began to back the barge against its pier. The helmsmen, at their steering oars, shouting and cursing, brought the barge to its mooring. There was a slight shock as the heavy, wet, rolled hides tied at the back of the barge struck the pier. The two extra crewmen, standing on the deck, threw great looped ropes over heavy iron mooring cleats fastened in the pier. Then they leaped to the pier and, with smaller ropes, fastened to the same cleats, began to draw the barge close to the pier. There is no rear railing on the barges and the barge deck matches the pier in height. Once the ropes are secured the wagons may be rolled directly onto the pier.
A man came forward and untied the straps leading to the nose rings of the bosk from the bosk ring on the deck. He led them back toward the stern of the barge and onto the pier. The broad circles of wood on which the wagons were mounted were now rotated, so that the wagon tongues faced the pier. The bosk, now, bellowing and snuffing, and scuffing at the wood with their hoofs, were being backed toward the harness. The two extra crewmen were unchaining the wagon.
Some men came down to the pier to watch us land. Others stopped, too, for a time, to regard us.
The men wore rough work tunics. They seemed hardy.
There was a strong smell of fish and salt in the air.
There is little market in simple Laura for the more exquisite goods of Gor. Seldom will one find there Torian rolls of gold wire, interlocking cubes of silver from Tharna, rubies carved into tiny, burning panthers from Schendi, nutmegs and cloves, spikenard and peppers from the lands east of Bazi, the floral brocades, the perfumes of Tyros, the dark wines, the gorgeous, diaphanous silks of glorious Ar. Life, even by Gorean standards, is primitive in the region of the Laurius, and northward, to the great forests, and along the coast, upward to Torvaldsland.
Yet I had little doubt that the strong, large-handed men of Laura, sturdy in their work tunics, who stopped to regard us, would not appreciate the body of a slave girl, provided she is vital, and loves, and leaps helplessly to their touch.
"Tal, Kajirae!" cried one of the men, waving.
Ute pressed against the bars, waving back at him.
The men cheered.
"Do not smile at anyone," warned Lana. "It would not be well to be sold in Laura."
"I do not care where I am sold," said Ute.
"You are high on the
chain," said Inge to Ute. "Targo will not sell you until he reaches Ar." Then Inge looked at me, frankly. "He might sell you," she told me. "You are an untrained barbarian."
I hated Inge.
But I feared she was right. I suddenly became afraid that I might be sold in this river port to spend the rest of my life as the slave of a fisherman or woodsman, cooking and tending his hut. What a fate for Elinor Brinton! I must not be sold here! I must not!
One of the extra bargemen came and, with his heavy key, unlocked the large padlock that secured the gate of our slave cage. With a creak, he swung open the gate.
Our own guards were behind him. "Slaves out," said one of them. "Single file."
We saw that the bosk had now been harnessed.
When we emerged from the cage, one by one, we were given our camisks, and placed in throat coffle, fastened therein with a long length of binding fiber, the fiber looped about the neck of each, knotted, and then passed on to the next girl. Our hands and feet were free. Where would one run in Laura? Where would one run anywhere?
Barefoot we left the barge and stepped out onto the pier, walking along the left sides of the wagons.
I could see a long wooden ramp leading up from the pier to a long wooden road winding between the crowded warehouses. We, in coffle, followed this road. I liked the smell of Laura, the fresh fields before the forests, even the smell of the river and the wood. We could smell roast tarsk from somewhere. We, and the wagons, passed between wooden sleds, with leather runners, on which there were squared blocks of granite, from the quarries east of Laura; and between barrels and hogsheads of fish and salt; and between bales of sleen fur and panther hides, from the forests beyond. I put out my hand and touched some of the sleen fur as I passed it. It was not unpleasing to my touch. There were men who came to stand along the edge of the road to watch us pass. I gathered that we were good merchandise. I walked very straight, not looking at them. Then one of them, as I passed him, reached out and seized my leg, from the back, behind the knee. I cried out with alarm, leaping away. The men laughed. One of the guards stepped between us, with his spear. "Buy her," he said, not pleasantly. The man bowed low to the guard in mock apology. The other men laughed, and we continued on our way. I could feel his hand on my leg for several minutes. For some reason I was pleased. No one had reached out to touch Lana!
The smell of roast tarsk became stronger and, to our delight, the wagons turned and rolled into one of the huge warehouses. The floor was smooth. When we were inside the doors were closed. Then, kneeling, delighted, we were fed bread and roast tarsk, and hot bosk milk.
I became aware of Targo standing over me.
"Why did the docksman touch you?" he asked.
I put down my head. "I do not know, Master," I said.
The one-eyed, grizzled guard stood near Targo. "She now walks better than she did," he said.
"Do you think she might become beautiful?" asked Targo.
That seemed to me a strange question. Surely a girl is either beautiful or not beautiful.
"She might," said the guard. "She has become more beautiful just since we have owned her."
This pleased me, but I did not understand it.
"It is hard for a white silk girl to be beautiful," said Targo.
"Yes," said the guard, "but there is a good market for white silkers."
I did not understand this.
When I looked at Targo again, he said, "Put her six on the chain."
I looked down, flushed with pleasure. When I looked up again Targo and the guard were elsewhere. I began to chew my bread and roast tarsk. I glanced at the former five and six girl, now four and five. They were not much pleased. "Barbarian," said the six girl. "Five girl," I said to her.
But Targo did not display his chain in Laura, to my relief. He wanted higher prices.
After we had eaten we continued on our way, climbing the wooden streets, tied together by the neck beside the wagons. Once we passed a paga tavern, and, inside, belled and jeweled, otherwise unclothed, I saw a girl dancing on a square of sand between the tables. She danced slowly, exquisitely, to the music of primitive instruments. I was stunned. Then there was a jerk at my neck, on the binding fiber, and the guard prodded me ahead with the butt of his spear. Never had I seen so sensuous a woman. About noon we arrived at a slave compound north of Laura. There are several such. Targo had rented space in one compound, adjoining others. Our compound shared a common wall of bars with another, that of Haakon of Skjern, whom Targo had traveled north to do business with. The compounds are formed of windowless log dormitories, floored with stone on which straw is spread; the dormitory then opens by one small door, about a yard high, into the barred exercise yard. This yard resembles a large cage. Its walls are bars, and its roof, too. The roof bars are supported at places in the yard by iron stanchions. There had been rain recently in Laura and the yard was muddy, but I found it more pleasant than the stuffy interior of the dormitory. We were not permitted our camisks in the compound, perhaps because of the mud in the yard.
In the compound adjoining ours, crowded, there were some two hundred and fifty to three hundred village girls. Some of these, not too many, did a good deal of wailing, which I did not much care for. I was pleased that the guards, with whips, kept them silent at night. That way we could all get some sleep. They were stripped and slaves, but, each morning, they would still braid one another's long, blond hair. That seemed important to them, and they were permitted to do it, for some reason. Targo's other girls, for he had now purchased several of these, of whom I was one, all wore their hair long and combed, straight. I was hoping my hair would grow swiftly. Lana had the longest hair of all of us. It fell below the small of her back. I had fantasies of putting my hands in it and shaking her head until she screamed for mercy. Most of the village girls had not been branded as yet. None wore collars. They were generally blue-eyed, though some were gray-eyed. They were girls taken by the raiders of Haakon of Skjern, in the villages to the north of the Laurius, and from the coastal villages, upward even to the borders of Torvaldsland. Most did not seem too distressed about their slavery. I gathered that life in the villages must be hard for a young girl. Targo would have his pick of one hundred of these women. He had paid a deposit of fifty golden tarn disks, and on our first morning in the compound, I had seen him pay one hundred and fifty more to the huge, bearded, scowling Haakon of Skjern. I had watched Targo, not hurrying, with his expert eye and quick, delicate hands, examining the women. Sometimes they would try to pull away from him. When they did they were held by two guards. I recalled that he had once similarly examined me, shortly after we had encountered our first caravan. At one point I had cried out and my body had leaped, uncontrollably. He had seemed pleased. "Kajira," he had said. I noted that girls who responded similarly were invariably selected, sometimes over their more beautiful sisters in bondage. I thought, however, that none of them had responded as I had responded. Targo took more than two days to make his choices. When he did make a choice the girl was removed to our compound. They did not mix with us but, with their northern accents, kept to themselves. A full day was spent in the heating of irons and the branding of them. These were not pleasant days, incidentally, for the new girl, Rena of Lydius. She was kept within the dormitory, her wrists behind her back, fastened with slave bracelets, her neck chained to a heavy ring set in the wall. Further, except when she was fed, she was kept in a gag and slave hood. She would sit against the wall, knees drawn up, head down, the leather slave hood, with its gag, drawn over her head and features. I was given the task of feeding her. When I first unhooded her and removed the gag, she had pleaded with me that I help her escape, or tell others of her plight. What a fool she was! I would be beaten for such an act, perhaps even impaled! I told her, "Be silent, Slave!" and rehooded and regagged her. I did not even feed her then, that she might learn her lesson. I ate her portion that morning, and again in the evening. I had two extra portions that day. The next morning when I freed her head she had
tears in her eyes but did not try to speak to me. I fed her in silence, thrusting food into her mouth, telling her to eat swiftly, and then giving her a drink from the leather water bag. Then I resecured her. She had been of high caste. I hated her. I would treat her as what she now was, a slave.
Beyond the compound of Haakon of Skjern I could see the compound of his tarns, where, hobbled, the great birds beat their wings, threw back their heads and screamed, and tore at the great pieces of bosk thrown before them. Sometimes they tore at their hobbles and struck at their keepers with their great yellowish, scimitarlike beaks. The wind driven by their pounding, snapping wings, with hurricanes of dust and small stones, could hurl a man from his feet. Those great rending beaks and pressing, ripping talons could tear him in two as easily as the great thighs of bosk on which they fed. Even separated as I was by three walls of bars, that of their compound, that of the far wall of Haakon's compound, and that of our common wall, these birds terrified me. The northern beauties of Haakon, too, I was pleased to see, cowered away from that side of their compound. Sometimes when one of the great birds screamed, several of them would scream, too, and run, huddling away against our bars, or flying into their log dormitory. I do not know why it is that women fear tarns so terribly, but we do. But most men do, too. It is a rare man who will approach a tarn. It is said that the tarn knows who is a tarnsman and who is not, and if one approaches him who is not, he will seize him and rip him to pieces. It is little wonder that few men approach the beasts. I had seen tarn keepers about, but, except for Haakon of Skjern, I had seen no tarnsmen. They were wild men, of the Caste of Warriors, who spent much of their time in the taverns of Laura, fighting and gambling and drinking, while slave girls, excited and with shining eyes, served them and pressed about them, begging to be noticed and ordered to the alcoves. It was no wonder that some men, even warriors, hated and envied the arrogant, regal tarnsmen, one night rich, the next impoverished, always at the elbow of adventure, and war and pleasure, wearing their pride and their manhood in their walk, in the steel at their side and the look in their eyes.