by John Norman
Many of the girls ran to individual warriors, their eyes shining, leaping up and seizing the stirrups, pulling themselves up and putting their cheeks against their soft leather boots. And more than one was hauled to the saddle and well held and kissed before being thrown again to the ground.
When the tarnsmen would return, with their captives and booty, there would be a feast.
I would serve at this feast, but when it came time for dancing silks and slave bells to be withdrawn from the ornate, heavy chests, I would be dismissed to the shed, where I would be locked, alone.
"Why am I never belled and put in dancing silk?" I demanded of Ute. I could scarcely believe that it was I, Elinor Brinton, who so protested. Yet I heard the words. "Why am I never allowed, late, to serve the men in their tents?"
"No man has called for you," said Ute.
And so I, my work tunic removed, would be locked in the shed at night.
I would lie there and, through the crack beneath the heavy plank door, hear the music, the laughing, protesting screams of the girls, the laughter, the shouts of satisfaction, of victory of the men.
But no man had called for me. No man wanted me.
How pleased I was to be spared the ignominious usage to which the other girls, my unfortunate peers, were subjected! How I pitied them. How I rejoiced that I did not share their fate. I screamed with rage, and taking up handfuls of dirt, hurled it against the interior walls of the shed, within which I was locked.
At the third or fourth hour of the morning, one by one, the girls, their silks now removed, would be returned to the shed. How stimulated they seemed, how untired. How they laughed and talked to one another! How vital they seemed! We had to work the next day! Why did they not go to sleep? One would sing or hum to herself. Another would cry out some name, that of a tarnsman, to herself with pleasure. "Ah, Rim," she would cry out, twisting in the darkness, "I am truly your slave!"
I pounded my fists in the dirt, angry.
But they would be exhausted in the morning! In the morning they would be miserable enough! In the morning Ute would almost have to use whips to rout such lazy girls out of the shed!
I was pleased no one wanted me. I wept.
Sometimes there were visitors to the camp of Rask of Treve, though, one gathers, these were men in the confidence of Treve.
Generally they were merchants. Some brought food and wines. Others came to buy the plunder of the tarnsmen. Several of my workmates were sold, and others, captured, brought in on tarnback, took their place, perhaps to be sold as well in their turn.
When I could, I would manage, in my daily tasks, to pass by the tent of Rask of Treve, that large, low tent, on its eight poles, of scarlet canvas lined with scarlet silk.
It was convenient to pass by the tent, you understand, for it was in the center of the camp, and thus often lay on the shortest route from place to place within the palisade.
Sometimes I saw the dark-haired girl, in red silk with the two golden bangles on her left ankle, when I passed by the tent. Sometimes I saw other girls. Once or twice I saw a stunningly figured blond girl in brief yellow silk. It seemed Rask of Treve had his choice of beautiful women.
I hated him!
One afternoon, after I had been some three weeks in the camp, Rask and his tarnsmen returned from a raid far to the north.
He had raided the slave compound of his old enemy, Haakon of Skjern.
Among the new slave girls brought to the camp were Inge and the Lady Rena of Lydius! Lana had not been captured. Inge and Rena were the only ones I knew among the new girls.
The morning following their capture, as I had been, they, and the others, were collared. They, like I, had spent their first night in the tent of the women. Following their collaring, however, as I had been, they were sent to the shed. When Rask had collared Inge he had shaken her blond head with his large hand. He seemed fond of her. And she had dared to put her cheek against his hand. How shameless she had become! Once of the scribes, she was now only a wanton, shameless slave girl! I wanted to tear her hair and eyes out! How pleased I was, and how startled she was, and the others, when Rask sent them to the shed, where they would be issued work tunics and find themselves work slaves in the camp!
How Inge and Rena rejoiced when they found themselves forced to their knees before Ute!
But Ute did not even let them rise.
They looked at her with horror.
"I am Ute," Ute told them. "I am first girl among the work slaves. You will obey me. You will be treated precisely as the other girls, neither better nor worse. If you do not obey me, exactly and promptly, in all things, you will be beaten."
They looked at her, scarcely comprehending.
"Do you understand?" asked Ute.
"Yes," said Inge.
"Yes," said Rena.
"The slave, El-in-or," said Ute, "stand forward."
I had been hiding in the background. Ordered by Ute, I came forward.
I saw Inge and Rena exchange glances of pleasure. I was frightened.
"This is one of my girls," said Ute, "as you are. You will not be cruel to her."
"Ute!" protested Inge.
"Or I will have you beaten," said Ute.
Inge looked at her, angrily.
"Do you understand?" said Ute.
"Yes," said Inge.
"Yes," said the Lady Rena of Lydius.
"El-in-or," said Ute, "take these new slaves and get them work tunics, and then return them to me, and I shall assign them their duties for the day."
Inge and Rena, and the other new girls, followed me, and I took them to the chest at the side of the shed, where I could find them their simple, brief garments of brown rep-cloth, which raiment would constitute their sole work garment in the camp of Rask of Treve.
From the chest I took forth several of the garments, small, clean and neatly folded. I had washed several myself, and, sprinkling them with water, and sweating, had pressed them on a smooth board, using the small, heavy, rounded Gorean irons, heated over fire. I had folded them, too, and placed them in the chest.
I threw the garments to the girls, the new slaves. They were naked, save for their collars.
"But I am a trained pleasure slave," protested Inge. She held the small, folded garment in her two hands.
"Put it on," I told her.
"I was of high caste!" cried the Lady Rena of Lydius.
"Put it on," I told her.
Then angrily Inge and Rena stood before me, clad in the brief, simple garments of female work slaves.
"You make a pretty work slave," I said to Inge.
She clenched her fists.
"You, too," said I to the Lady Rena of Lydius.
She glared at me in helpless fury, her fists, like Inge's, clenched.
I looked at the others. "Put them on!" I cried.
The other girls, too, donned their tunics, and then I led them all, the new slaves, clad for work, back to Ute, who would instruct them in their duties for the day.
* * * *
Four days after Inge and Rena, and other new girls, had been brought to the secret war camp of Rask of Treve, the tarnsman, and his fierce men, again returned from the work of warriors.
Again there was excitement in the camp.
I leaped to my feet.
"Finish your work," said Ute.
"Ute!" I cried.
"Finish your work," she said.
Behind the kitchen shed, I was ironing. To one side there was a large pile of laundered work tunics, which I had washed in the early morning. The smooth board was set before me, mounted on two wooden blocks. A bowl of water was nearby, and a fire, over which, on an iron plate fixed on stones, there were, heating, five, small, flat-bottomed, rounded, wooden-handled Gorean irons. I had been kneeling before the board, ironing the tunics, which I would then fold and place to one side. Behind the kitchen shed, I had not been able to see the alighting of the tarns. I could hear, however, the delighted cries of the girls and the loud, warm, an
swering shouts of the men.
I heard one of the girls cry out, "How beautiful she is!"
I supposed a new female had been brought to the camp.
Angrily I pressed one of the hot irons down on a work tunic, smoothing it.
I must remain behind the kitchen shed, working, while they were permitted to greet the men! I wondered if Inge would be there, perhaps smiling and waving to Rask of Treve!
How furious I was!
But I reminded myself that I hated him!
In time the excitement, the cries and shouts, diminished, and I knew the men had dismounted, and any captives, perhaps bound, would have been sent to the tent of the women. The girls, here and there, returned to their labors.
I continued to iron.
About a quarter of an Ahn later, kneeling behind the board, ironing, I became aware of someone standing before me. I saw a pair of slim, tanned ankles. I lifted my eyes and saw slender, strong, tanned legs. And then, to my horror, the brief, tawny garment of a panther girl. And in the belt of the garment there was thrust a sleen knife. She wore barbaric ornaments of gold. I lifted my eyes to this tall, strong, beautifully figured female.
I put down my head, crying out in misery.
"She seems to know you," said Rask of Treve.
I shook my head negatively.
"Lift your head, Slave," said Verna.
I did so.
"Who is she?" asked Verna.
Rask shrugged. "One of my slaves," he said.
Verna smiled down at me. "You know me, do you not, Girl?" she asked.
I shook my head.
Verna wore no collar. In her belt she carried a sleen knife. Rask of Treve, my master, stood near her. She was free, obviously free. She was not even a captive, let alone a slave. By the attitude of my master, I could see that she was, somehow, for no reason I could understand, a guest in this camp.
"We met," said Verna, "first outside the compound of Targo the Slaver, north of Laura. Then, in the streets of Ko-ro-ba, you incited slave girls to attack me. Later, south of Ko-ro-ba, when I was caged, among the prizes in the hunting retinue of Marlenus of Ar, you, with another girl, whose name was Lana, much abused me."
I put my head down.
"Lift your head, Girl," said she.
Again I did so.
"You know me, do you not, Girl?" asked Verna again.
I shook my head, no, no!
"Your slave is a liar," said Verna.
"Shall I have her beaten for you?" asked Rask of Treve.
"No," said Verna. She looked down at me. "She is only a slave," she said.
I put down my head.
"You are not to lie again in this camp," said Rask of Treve.
"No, Master," I whispered.
"My patience grows short with you, El-in-or," he said.
"Yes, Master," I whispered.
"I know little of such work," said Verna, "but are you not in danger of scorching the garment which you are ironing?"
I hastily drew away the iron, placing it on the fire-heated plate.
Fortunately the garment was not marked, else Ute, discovering it, might have punished me.
"Permit me, Verna," said Rask of Treve, "to show you the rest of the camp."
Verna looked down upon me. "Continue with your work, Slave," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
Then, together, Verna and Rask of Treve left me. Weeping, I continued to iron.
That night I sneaked away, following my feeding, and before the time to be sent to the kitchen shed, to the tent of women.
"Ena!" I whispered, through the canvas of the tent.
Ena came from the tent and I, only a work girl, knelt before her, putting my forehead to the ground. "May a slave speak?" I begged.
Ena knelt down before me and lifted me, and held my arms. "Of course, El-in-or," she said. "What is it?"
I looked at her, gratefully.
"There is a new woman, a free woman in the camp," I said.
"That is Verna," said Ena, "a panther girl from the northern forests."
"How is it that she is here?" I begged.
Ena smiled. "Come with me," she said. She led me through the camp, until we came to a small, low tent. Before it, about a fire, there sat two brawny, magnificent huntsmen.
"They are from the hunting retinue of Marlenus of Ar," I whispered. I recognized them, both from the streets of Ko-ro-ba and from the merchants' stockade, on the trade route to Ar, where I and Lana had so abused Verna, she then being helplessly caged.
I noted that these two men were served, each by a slave girl. Inge and Rena were fetching in their work tunics. I could see that they were excited by their proximity to such men.
They were shameless!
"Those men," said Ena, "are Raf and Pron, huntsmen of Treve, though they range widely in their huntings, even to the northern forests. By order of Rask of Treve they, by their skill in weapons and their mastery of the techniques and lore of the hunt, and pretending to be of Minus, a village under the hegemony of Ar, made petition, and successfully so, to participate in the retinue of the great Ubar." She smiled at me. "Treve," she said, "has spies in many places."
"They freed Verna," I said.
"Freeing her, they escaped to a preappointed rendezvous, where Rask of Treve, with his men, met them, and brought them, and Verna, here."
"But why should they wish to free her?" I asked.
"Verna is well known on Gor, as an outlaw woman," said Ena. "When it became known that Marlenus, in his hunting, for his sport, would seek her, Rask of Treve gave order for Raf and Pron to attempt to join his retinue."
"But why?" I asked.
"That," said Ena, "Marlenus, if successful, might be deprived of his prize."
"But why?" I pressed.
"There would be glory in the capture of such a woman," said Ena, "and, surely, ignominy in her escaping."
"You mean she has been freed only that Marlenus of Ar might be deprived of his prize?"
"Of course," said Ena. "Treve and Ar are enemies." Her eyes shone, and I had little doubt where her sympathies lay. "Is it not a superb insult to Marlenus and Ar!" she breathed.
"Yes," I said, "it is."
"Too," said Ena, thrilled, "is it not audacious that my master, Rask of Treve, places his war camp, from which he may despoil the fields and caravans of Ar, within the realm of mighty Ar itself!"
"Yes," I whispered. I then sensed something of the points of honor and of the nature of insults which scornful men, mighty warriors, might exchange. I shuddered, momentarily thrilled with the boldness of my master, Rask of Treve. Then I remembered that he had contempt for women, and that I hated him!
"What of the other girls, those of Verna's band?" I asked. I particularly feared that the blond girl, she who had held my leash, might be freed. I had much abused her, throwing dirt on her and poking her with a stick in her cage. I was terrified of her. If she was free I did not know what she might do to me.
"The others remain caged prizes in the retinue of Marlenus," said Ena.
"Oh," I said. I was much relieved.
I observed Inge filling the paga goblet of one of the huntsmen. She knelt closer to him than she needed to. Her lips were parted. Her eyes shone. Her hands, slightly, shook on the paga bottle. Rena knelt to one side. She watched her huntsman, gnawing the meat from a great bone. I could see that she was eager to leap up to serve him, should he but speak to her.
What shameless, wanton slave girls they were!
"Rask of Treve hates Marlenus of Ar," said Ena.
I nodded.
"Have you seen the dark-haired girl, who sometimes tends his tent?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. I had indeed seen her. She was an incredibly beautiful slave female. She was even more beautiful than Ena, who was one of the most beautiful female slaves I had ever seen. Her hair was glossy and black, and her master had had her cut it at the small of her back. Her features, and body, were breath-takingly beautiful. She had an exciting mo
uth and lips. She was a stunningly figured, green-eyed, olive-skinned slave girl. She would bring a high price on the market. Always she wore only the brief garment of scarlet, diaphanous silk. Always, about her left ankle, fastened, were two golden bangles.
"Do you know who she is?" asked Ena, smiling.
"No," I said. "Who is she?"
Ena smiled.
"El-in-or!" snapped Ute. "Get to the shed!"
I leaped up and, frightened, angry, fled through the camp to be locked in the shed.
* * * *
I would soon learn who the beautiful dark-haired girl was.
Verna had her own tent in the camp of Rask of Treve, though often, when he was in the camp, she dined with him. Sometimes, too, she would range beyond the palisade, beyond which other girls were not permitted, to walk and hunt.
It was not infrequently that Verna requested that it be I who would tend her tent, and prepare her food, and serve her. I, collared, did so, fearfully. But she was not more cruel to me than to any other female slave assigned such servile duties. I effaced myself as much as possible, serving her as unobtrusively and anonymously as I could. She tended to ignore me, as one would a female work slave. I made certain I pleased her in all respects, for I greatly feared her.
Then, one night, on a feast night, for Rask had returned with new fair prisoners, Verna feasted in his own tent, and I, to my amazement, was ordered to serve them. Other girls had prepared the repast, which, for the war camp, was sumptuous indeed, containing even oysters from the delta of the Vosk, a portion of the plunder of a tarn caravan of Ar, such delicacies having been intended for the very table of Marlenus, the Ubar of that great city itself. I served the food, and poured the wines, and kept their goblets filled, remaining as much in the background as possible.
They talked of hunting, and war, and of the northern forests, as though I were not there.
Sometimes Verna would say, "Drink," and I would pour wine into her goblet, saying, "Yes, Mistress," and sometimes Rask of Treve would command me, saying "Drink," and I would then, similarly, serve him, saying "Yes, Master."