by John Norman
Verna sat cross-legged, like a man. I knelt, as a serving slave.
She threw me one of the oysters.
"Eat, Slave," she said.
I ate.
In so doing this, she, the guest, had signified that I might now feed. It is a not uncommon Gorean courtesy, in such situations, to permit the guest to grant the feeding permission to the slaves present.
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
Rask of Treve then threw me a piece of meat, that I might satisfy my hunger, for I had not been fed.
With my hands I ate the meat, a collared slave, while the free persons drank, and conversed.
Rask of Treve snapped his fingers. "Approach me, El-in-or," he said.
I bolted down the meat. I approached him, across the low table behind which he sat on the rugs.
He extended his goblet to me. "Drink," he said, offering me the cup.
I looked at the rim of the cup. I shook with terror. "A slave girl dares not touch with her lips the rim of that cup which has been touched with the lips of her master," I whispered.
"Excellent," said Verna.
"She was trained in the pens of Ko-ro-ba," said Rask of Treve.
He then, from his own cup, poured some wine into a small bowl, which he handed to me.
"Thank you, Master," I breathed.
With his head Rask of Treve gestured me to one side, and I went and knelt to one side, as I had before.
I put back my head and drank the wine. It was Ka-la-na wine. I felt it almost immediately.
"I have a surprise for you," Rask was telling Verna.
"Oh?" she asked.
I put down the wine cup, to one side.
Rask of Treve looked at me. He was in an expansive mood. He cut a large slice of juicy bosk meat. My mouth watered. He smiled, and then he threw it to me. I caught it, happily, and, with two hands, began to feed on it.
"What is the surprise?" asked Verna.
Rask clapped his hands once, and four musicians, who had been waiting outside, entered the tent, and took a place to one side. Two had small drums, one a flute, the other a stringed instrument.
Rask clapped his hands twice, sharply. And the black-haired, green-eyed, olive-skinned slave girl stood before him. "Put her in slave bells," said Rask to one of the musicians. The musician fastened leather cuffs, mounted each with three rows of bells, on her wrists and ankles.
"Please, Master," begged the girl, "not before a woman." She referred to Verna. I was only a slave.
Rask of Treve threw the girl one of the oysters, from a silver plate on the low, wooden table.
"Eat it," he said.
There was a rustle of slave bells. She complied with the dictum of her master.
"It was destined for the table of Marlenus of Ar," said Rask of Treve.
"Yes, Master," said the girl.
She stood facing him.
Verna and I watched.
"Remove your garment," said Rask of Treve.
"Please, Master," she begged.
"Remove it," said Rask of Treve.
The beautiful, olive-skinned girl parted the garment and dropped it to one side.
"You may now dance, Talena," said Rask of Treve.
The girl danced.
"She is not bad," said Verna.
"Do you know who she is?" asked Rask of Treve, eating a piece of meat.
"No," said Verna. "Who is she?"
"Talena," said Rask, smiling, "the daughter of Marlenus of Ar."
Verna looked at him, dumbfounded, and then she laughed a great laugh, and slapped her knee. "Splendid!" she cried. "Splendid!"
She leaped to her feet and, closely, moving about her, examined the girl as she danced, now slowly, to a barbaric, adagio melody. "Splendid!" cried Verna. "Splendid!"
Now the melody became more swift, and it burned like flame in the girl's slave body.
"Give her to me!" cried Verna.
"Perhaps," said Rask of Treve.
"I am the enemy of Marlenus of Ar!" cried Verna. "Give her to me!"
"I, too, am the enemy of Marlenus of Ar," said Rask. He held out his goblet and I, the meat on which I was feeding clenched between my teeth, filled it.
"I will well teach her the meaning of slavery in the northern forests!" cried Verna.
I could see fear in the girl's eyes, as she danced. I continued to eat the piece of meat on which I had been feeding.
She was beautiful and helpless as she danced, before her enemies. The firelight glinted on her collar, which had been placed on her throat by Rask of Treve. But I did not feel sorry for her. She was no business of mine. She was only another slave.
"I have taught her something of slavery already," smiled Rask of Treve.
The girl's eyes seemed agonized, as she danced.
"How is she?" asked Verna, who had now again resumed her place, seating herself cross-legged by Rask of Treve's side.
"Superb," said Rask of Treve.
Humiliation and shame shone in the eyes of the dancing slave girl.
"Where did you get her?" asked Verna.
"I acquired her about a year ago," said Rask of Treve, "from a merchant of Tyros, who was traveling by caravan overland to Ar, with the intention of returning her, for a recompense, to Marlenus of Ar."
"What did she cost you?" asked Verna.
"The merchant," smiled Rask of Treve, "was persuaded to give her to me, free of all costs, as a token of his esteem for the men and city of Treve."
Verna laughed.
"I do not buy women," said Rask of Treve.
I shuddered.
"It is marvelous!" cried Verna. "Your secret camp lies within the very realm of Ar itself! Splendid! And in this camp you keep the daughter of your worst enemy, the daughter of the Ubar of great Ar itself, as slave! Magnificent!"
I watched the girl dancing, the slave.
Rask clapped his hands again, twice, sharply. The musicians stopped, and the girl stopped dancing. "That is enough, Slave Girl," he said.
She turned to flee from the tent.
"Do not forget your garment, Girl," said Verna.
The slave girl reached down and snatched up the bit of red silk she had dropped aside and, holding it, with a jangle of slave bells, fled from the tent of her master.
Rask of Treve, and Verna, laughed.
I had finished my meat.
They again held out their goblets, and I again filled them.
"Tonight," said Rask of Treve to me, "because we have brought in new prisoners, there will be feasting and pleasure."
"Yes, Master?" I said.
"So go to Ute," he said, "and tell her to lock you in the shed."
"Yes, Master," I said.
"Why do you not give Talena to me?" asked Verna, of Rask of Treve.
"Perhaps I shall," said Rask of Treve. "I must think about it."
I left the tent, to find Ute, to tell her to lock me in the shed.
* * * *
The next day, for the first time, on a leash with another girl, Techne, a girl of Cos, I was permitted beyond the palisade. A guard was with us, and we were charged with filling our leather buckets with ram-berries, a small, reddish fruit with edible seeds, not unlike tiny plums, save for the many small seeds. I had picked such berries before, with Targo's caravan. Indeed, the first fruit on Gor I had eaten had been such berries.
I was pleased to be outside of the palisade. The day was beautifully warm, and I felt happy.
I had often begged Ute to be permitted to go beyond the palisade to pick fruit. But, always, she had, for some reason, forbidden me this permission. "I will not escape," I had assured her, irritably. "I know," she had said. What then could have been her objection? At last, she had yielded to my entreaties and permitted me, leashed with Techne, to go beyond the stockade and pick berries. It was glorious to be outside the stockade, even though fastened by a leather neck strap to another girl. Moreover, today, two more female prisoners had been brought in, girls who had been fleeing from unwanted com
panionships, arranged by their parents. There would be another feast, as there had been last night, and this time Ute had told me that, if the berry picking went well, I need not be locked in the shed early this night. I would be permitted, late, to serve the feasters. I was very pleased that the two girls had been captured.
"I suppose I must be placed in silk then," I had said to Ute, angrily.
"And slave bells," had added Ute.
How furious I had been!
"I do not wish to serve men," I had told Ute. "Moreover, I do not wish to serve them clad revealingly in a bit of silk and the bells of a slave girl!"
"Well," said Ute, "you may, if you wish, remain in the shed."
"I suppose it is not fair to the other girls," I had said, "that I should be permitted to remain in the shed while they are forced to serve, so clad and belled."
"Do you wish to serve or not?" had asked Ute.
"I will serve," I had said, with an air of defeat.
"You will then be silked and belled," she said.
"Very well," I had said, dropping my head with resignation. I found myself looking forward eagerly to the evening.
I was sure that I would be among the most beautiful of all the girls. I wondered if, in silk and bells, Rask of Treve might notice me. How I hated him!
"But," had said Ute, "if a man seizes you, you are not to yield yourself to him, for you are white silk."
A flash of irritation passed through me. "I am charged with the protection of my market value?" I asked, ironically.
"Yes," said Ute, matter-of-factly. "Though I, if I were a man, would pay more for a red-silk girl."
"I must do nothing," I said, "to diminish the investment of Rask of Treve?"
"That is correct," said Ute.
"What if I am simply seized, and my attacker is not prepared to listen to reason?" I asked.
Ute laughed. It was the first time I had seen her laugh in the camp. I was pleased I had made her laugh.
"Cry out," said Ute, "and the others will take you from him and get him a red-silk girl."
"All right," I had said.
Ute had then said to the guard, "Leash her." And I and Techne, leashed together, had been taken from the stockade. "Be careful, El-in-or," Ute had called after me.
I did not understand her. "All right," I had called back to her.
I now felt a tug on the neck strap. "Hurry, El-in-or," said Techne. "We must be back soon! Our buckets are not half filled!"
I was irritated with Techne. She was young. She was a lovely slave, though fresh to the collar.
The sun was warm and its heat went through me, and I stretched happily.
When neither the guard nor Techne were looking I stole berries from her buckets, to put in mine, handfuls. Why should I work as hard as she? Also, when they were not looking, I placed berries in my mouth, taking care that the juices not stain my lips, revealing that I had eaten them. I had done this sort of thing often before, when I had picked berries for Targo's caravans. Ute and the guard had never seen. I had fooled them all. I was too clever for them!
At last our buckets were all full, and we returned to the camp of Rask of Treve.
The guard handed our buckets to other girls to be taken to the kitchen shed, and he then unleashed us.
"El-in-or, Techne," said Ute, "follow me."
We did so.
She took us to that part of the camp near the horizontal pole, some nine feet high, resting across the two pairs of crossed poles, rather like a pole for hanging meat, or trophies, from. Near that pole, near the iron ring set in the stone, which was buried in the ground, Ute told Techne and I to kneel.
To one side there was a brazier filled with white-hot coals. From the brazier there protruded the handles of four irons. The fire was quite hot, and it had apparently been heating for some two or three Ahn, perhaps even from the time we had gone forth to pick berries.
I was apprehensive.
Two or three guards stood about, and some of my fellow female work slaves.
One of the guards who stood nearby was the one who had taken Techne and I beyond the palisade to gather berries.
Some other men, and girls, from the camp, strolled over to the poles.
Ute stood sternly before us.
Techne looked about, frightened. I was not pleased myself, but I appeared calm.
"Techne," said Ute.
"Yes," said Techne, frightened.
"Did you steal berries from El-in-or?" demanded Ute.
"No, no!" she cried.
"El-in-or," said Ute, "did you, or did you not, steal berries from Techne?"
"I did not," I said.
Ute turned to the guard.
"The first one," he said, "tells the truth. The second one is lying."
"No!" I cried out. "No!"
Ute looked at me. "It is not hard to tell, El-in-or," she said. "Sometimes the guard sees you, sometimes he sees the shadow, or he hears what you are doing, or he sees the different amounts in the buckets. Sometimes he watches in the reflection of a shield hoop."
"No," I whimpered. "No."
"You frequently stole from me," said Ute, "but I asked the guard, who also knew, not to inform on you."
I put my head down, miserable.
"I will not steal berries again, Ute," I said.
"No," she said, "I do not think you will."
I looked up at her.
"But this time," she said, "you stole from Techne, who is one of my girls. I cannot permit that."
"I didn't steal from her!" I wept.
Ute looked at the guard.
He shrugged. "She is lying," he said.
"I will not steal from her anymore," I cried.
"No," said Ute, "I do not think you will."
Ute then went to Techne. "Did you eat any of the berries?" she asked.
"No," said Techne, frightened.
Then Ute stood before me.
"Did you, El-in-or, eat any of the berries?" she asked.
"No, Ute," I said. "No!"
Then Ute stood again before Techne. "Open your mouth and thrust out your tongue," she said.
I moaned.
Ute inspected Techne's mouth and tongue. "Good," she said.
Then Ute stood before me.
"Please, Ute," I begged. "Please!"
"Open your mouth and thrust out your tongue," said Ute.
"Please, Ute!" I whimpered.
"Open your mouth and thrust out your tongue," said Ute.
I did so.
There was much laughter from the group.
"You may go, Techne," said Ute.
The young slave leaped to her feet and fled away.
I started to rise to my feet. "Not you, El-in-or," said Ute.
I knelt before her, trembling.
"Remove your garment," she said.
Terrified, I did so, and then again, as before, knelt before her, wearing only my collar.
"Now," said Ute, "ask a guard to brand and beat you."
"No!" I screamed. "No, no, no, no!"
"I will mark her," said a voice.
I turned to see Rask of Treve.
"Master!" I wept, throwing myself to his feet.
"Hold her," he said to four of his men.
"Please!" I cried. "No, Master, no!"
Four men held me, naked, near the brazier. I could feel the heat blazing from the canister. The sky was very blue, the clouds were white.
"Please, no!" I wept.
I saw Rask, with a heavy glove, draw forth one of the irons from the fire. It terminated in a small letter, about a half of an inch high. The letter was white hot.
"This is a penalty brand," he said. "It marks you as a liar."
"Please, Master!" I wept.
"I no longer have patience with you," he said. "Be marked as what you are."
I screamed uncontrollably as he pressed in the iron, holding it firmly into my leg. Then, after some two to four Ihn, he removed it. I could not stop screaming with pain. I smelled the o
dor of burned flesh, my own. I began to whimper. I could not breathe. I gasped for breath. Still the men held me.
"This penalty brand," said Rask of Treve, lifting another iron from the brazier, again with a small letter at its glowing termination, "marks you also as what you are, as a thief."
"Please, no, Master!" I wept.
I could not move a muscle of my left leg. It might as well have been locked in a vise. It must wait for the iron.
I screamed again, uncontrollably. I had been branded as a thief.
"This third iron," said Rask of Treve, "is, too, a penalty iron. I mark you with it not for myself, but for Ute."
Through raging tears I saw, white hot, the small letter.
"It marks you as a traitress," said Rask of Treve. He looked at me, with fury. "Be marked as a traitress," he said. Then he pressed the third iron into my flesh. As it entered my flesh, biting and searing, I saw Ute watching, her face betraying no emotion. I screamed, and wept, and screamed.
Still the men did not release me.
Rask of Treve lifted the last iron from the fire. It was much larger, the letter at its termination some one and a half inches high. It, too, was white hot. I knew the brand. I had seen it, on Ena's thigh. It was the mark of Treve. Rask of Treve had decided that my flesh should bear that mark.
"No, Master, please!" I begged him.
"Yes, Worthless Slave," said he, "you will wear in your flesh the mark of the city of Treve."
"Please," I begged.
"When men ask you," said he, "who it was that marked you as liar and thief, and traitress, point to this brand and say, 'I was marked by one of Treve, who was displeased with me.'"
"Do not punish me with the iron!" I cried.
I could not move my thigh. It must wait, helpless, for the blazing kiss of the iron.
"No," I cried, "No!"
He approached me. I could feel the terrible heat of the iron, even inches from my body.
"Please, no!" I begged.
The iron was poised.
I saw his eyes and realized that I would receive no mercy. He was a tarnsman of Treve.
"With the mark of Treve," he said, "I brand you slave."
Then the iron, crackling and hissing, was pressed, deeply and firmly, into my flesh, for some five seconds.
I screamed and sobbed, and began to cough and vomit.
My wrists were tied before my body, by a long strip of binding fiber, which was then thrown over the top of the horizontal pole. I felt my wrists pulled above my head and then I was jerked from my feet and hung, suspended by the wrists, from the pole. The free end of the strap was secured to one side. The men stepped back.