by John Norman
"I do not need the jacket," I said.
"Please, for me, Jason," she wheedled.
She was so pretty!
"Very well," I said. I drew on the jacket.
"Now, the coat," she said.
"I certainly do not need the coat," I said.
"Oh, please, please, Jason," she wheedled.
"Very well," I said. I drew on the coat.
"How marvelous you look," she said. "How long it has been since I looked upon a handsome man of my world, so smartly attired."
"I feel like a fool." I said. "These garments are so incongruous on this world. Too, they seem clumsy and out of place, almost rude and barbaric, compared to the lines and simplicity of Gorean garments."
"No, no," she said. "They are perfect!"
"If you say so," I smiled.
"You have been very kind to me," she said, "to let me see you dressed in this fashion, as a man of my old and dear world. You have pleased me very much. What lovely memories do you recall for me!"
"It is nothing," I said. Indeed, it was such a little thing to do for the girl, and she seemed so appreciative. I gathered it meant much for her. "Perhaps now," I said, "you should show me the secret exit, that I may attempt to escape from this place."
"Hurry," she said, slipping in front of me and out the barred gate, which was ajar.
"Slowly," I said. "There may be guards in the hall."
"No," she said. "It is not yet time for their rounds but it will be quite soon. We must make haste."
I followed the girl, swiftly, from the cell. Behind me I left the collar, opened, on the floor, and the chains, open and discarded, strewn about the ring.
I was well pleased to leave the room of slave preparation. I quickly followed the girl, heart pounding, through the dimly lit corridors. I thought it fortunate we encountered no guards. She knew the way well. Once we heard, in the distance, the striking of a gong. "What is that?" I asked. "It is a signal," she said, "that it is time for the guards to begin their rounds."
"Hurry," I said. She moved quickly before me.
How brave she was. She risked much, doubtless, for one who was only a man of her world.
What a fine and noble girl.
Suddenly she stopped before a large, heavy door. She turned, breathless, to face me.
"Is this the door?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
I took her in my arms. "You must come with me," I said. "I cannot leave you here."
She shook her head. "I cannot go," she said. "Leave me! Escape!"
"You must come with me," I told her.
"I am only a half-naked slave," she said, "in a Ta-Teera and collar. I would be picked up in a moment. Go."
"Please," I said. "Come with me."
"Do you know the penalties for an escaped slave girl?" she asked.
"No," I said, frightened.
"I tried to escape once," she said. "This time my feet could be cut off."
I shuddered.
"Please, hurry," she said. "Every moment that you delay prolongs our danger."
"You are the finest and bravest girl I have ever known," I said.
"Hurry," she whispered.
I lowered my head to her, to kiss her, but, again, she twisted her head away.
"Do not forget that I am a woman of Earth," she said.
I continued to hold her. She was sensitive to the pressure of my hands upon her arms.
She looked up at me.
"Our relationship has been so beautiful, Jason," she said, "please do not spoil it."
"I'm sorry," I said. I released her.
She opened the door and peered through. It was dark on the other side of the door.
She turned about and faced me. She smiled. "I wish you well, Jason," she said.
"I, too, wish you well," I said.
"Hurry," she said.
"I will never forget you," I said. Then I slipped through the door.
My arms were instantly pinioned to my sides. I heard a woman's laugh behind me.
"Light the torches." said another woman's voice. I recognized it as that of my Mistress, the Lady Tima.
Torches were lit. I found myself on a semicircular stage, in a sort of an amphitheater. My arms were held at my sides by the two gigantic brutes, guards, whom I had seen earlier. There was much laughter, that of women, which rang about me, which showered down upon me. To my left and right torches were ignited. I was well illuminated. I could not see too well into the tiers but I could see, dimly, that they were filled with robed, veiled women. I struggled, futilely. There was much laughter.
I saw the girl whom I had thought was named Darlene removing the collar from her throat with a key. She handed the collar and key to an attendant, a husky brute with a knife thrust in his belt, who handed her a loose, white gown which she, fastening a clasp at her throat, donned. Too, she was handed a whip. She shook out its blades, and snapped them once. The sound was fearful.
I looked up into the tiers.
I recalled the words of the heavy man on Earth. "I think I know a little market where you might be of interest," he had said.
I moaned.
I felt the whip of the Lady Tima pushing up my chin. She was dressed in brief black leather. She wore leather wristlets, studded. There were keys, and a knife, at her belt.
"Welcome to the market of Tima," she said.
I looked at her with misery.
She gave a sign and an attendant, at one side, struck a gong with a hammer. It was the same sound I had heard earlier, in the corridors. I now realized its significance.
"Let the sale begin," said the Lady Tima.
The girl whom I had known as 'Darlene' strode forward She indicated me with the whip. "This is a man of Earth," she said. "I will now take the first bid on him."
"Four copper tarsks!" I heard a woman call.
I was to be sold.
Chapter 12 - THE MARKET OF TIMA
"I have a bid of four tarsks!" called the girl in the white gown, it concealing the shameful Ta-Teera she had worn while pretending to be an Earth-girl slave.
"Five!" I heard.
"Five!" said the girl.
"Let us see him!" called a woman, shrilly.
"He stands before you clad in the barbarous garments of his own world," called the Lady Tima, stepping forward with her whip, indicating me. "Note them!"
I struggled, but futilely. I was well held by the two brutes who pinioned my arms.
"See how ugly are such garments," said the Lady Tima, "how constricting!"
There was laughter. Indeed, among most Gorean garments, with their simplicity, their flowing lines, the freedom allowed for movement, my own garments seemed rigid, confining, frightened, unimaginative and boorish. Were those of Earth really so ashamed and fearful of their bodies as such garments suggested, I wondered.
"Are they not offensive to your eyes?" inquired the Lady Tima.
"Remove them!" cried more than one lady, laughing, from the tiers.
"Some of the women of Earth even aspire to wear such garments!" laughed the Lady Tima. "It is their way of trying to be men, according to the quaint modalities of his strange world."
"Our men teach them that they are women," laughed a woman.
"It is true, and the little sluts learn swiftly," laughed the Lady Tima.
There was much laughter.
I struggled, but could not free myself. How cruel was their joke, to present me clad before buyers in garb which, though appropriate perhaps to my world, could appear only homely and foolish in comparison to the garments of Gor. I was chagrined to be presented before Gorean women in what now seemed to me to be gross and stupid garments. How little charm or grace, or liberty, there seemed to me then in such clothes.
That certain women, too, would hasten to don them seemed to me then a pitiful irony bespeaking the confusions of my native world. The question was less as to why women would wish to wear them than as to why anyone would wish to wear them. I wondered if the aesthe
tic judgment of the women who hastened to don such garments was as stereotyped and thoughtless as that of the men who wore them as a matter of course. I hoped not. But perhaps women who were determined to be male impersonators had really little choice in the matter. Did they not imitate men in their eccentricities and stupidities as well as in other features their portrayal or characterization would surely seem the less convincing and plausible.
Such garments, I suspected, were a softened heritage, rather than a break from such a heritage, from the repressions of an earlier era in Earth history, repressions now denied but repressions undeniably lingering. How scandalized and shamed would be an Earthling to adopt convenient and handsome raiment. How ridiculed would such a fellow be. How little we have learned from the informal garb of Greeks and Romans. Is it truly easier, I wonder, to adopt columns and arches, philosophy and poetry, mathematics and medicine, and law, than a rational mode of dress. But the Greeks and Romans were proud peoples, so untutored as to be unapologetic concerning their humanity. It is little wonder they are so alien to the men of Earth. It is a long time since I have thrown salt into the wind: it is a long time since I have poured wine into the sea; it is a long time since I have gone to Delphi.
"A silver tarsk!" cried a woman. "Let us see him!"
"A silver tarsk!" called the girl in the white gown, who had pretended to be an Earth-girl slave. She was quite pleased. She thrust my chin up with her whip. "An excellent bid for one of the opening bids!" she congratulated the woman who had called out.
"But a moment!" laughed the Lady Tima. She signaled to an attendant, a burly fellow who brought forth and set at one side of the platform a large, shallow bronze dish, containing cubes of wood. He set a torch into this wood, which had apparently been soaked with oil. The wooden cubes sprang immediately, briefly raging, into flame. I did not understand the meaning of the dish, or its flaming contents.
"We are ready now, are we not," asked the Lady Tima, "to remove his clothing?"
There were affirmative shouts from the tiers.
The Lady Tima nodded to the two men who held me. They shifted their grip to my wrists.
The Lady Tima then signaled again to the burly fellow who, with a knife, from the back, cutting at the back of the coat, and at the sleeves, cut and tore away the coat. He threw it into the dish of burning, oil-soaked wood. He then removed, similarly, my jacket, which, too, he threw into the dish of burning wood. I looked at the coat and jacket, burning. They had been things I had had from Earth. The men who held me returned their grip to my arms.
"Morel Let us see more of him!" cried a woman.
"But first," called the Lady Tima, "permit me to congratulate you, my lovely, and generous and noble clients, for cooperating so splendidly in the joke we played upon this poor slave. You were silent. He thought himself attempting to escape to freedom, abetted by a woman of his own world, which role was played by the lovely Lady Tendite." She indicated the girl in the white gown, who had pretended to be an Earth-girl slave. She whom I had thought bore the exciting slave name of Darlene, whom I now understood to be Tendite, a lady of Gor, nodded and smiled, lifting her whip to the crowd. Many in the tiers struck their left shoulders with the palms of their right hand, in Gorean applause. "Instead," she laughed, "he finds himself only a slave being marketed," There was much laughter. "You were superb," she told them. "The House of Tima is grateful," she said. Several of the women continued to applaud her. She was clever. The crowd, enlisted in the sale, was in a splendid mood.
Suddenly I was furious.
I began to struggle wildly. To my astonishment, in spite of the two men who held me, and their large size, I almost freed myself. I think the men, too, who held me, were astonished. They were almost thrown from my body. Then, again, they held me firmly fixed between them. I looked out with rage at the crowd. I was confident that had there been only one man he could not have, in spite of his size, held me. I had not realized I was so strong.
I think the women in the tiers, and the Ladies Tima and Tendite, too, had not realized this.
They exchanged glances.
"Is he tame?" asked one of the women in the second tier.
I could see, to my surprise, that several of the women were alarmed. In the back of the tiers I saw two guards, with spears, go to the top of one of the aisles, whence they might descend quickly into the tiers if it should be necessary.
I was pleased though, breathing heavily, I gave no sign of this. I had become, in my time on Gor, given the exercise and diet, more formidable than I could have dreamed, from my sedentary, refined existence on my native world.
"Many of you own tharlarion," said the Lady Tendite, calling merrily to the crowd. "They are much stronger than he," she laughed. "And perhaps they are more clever!" she added.
There was some uneasy laughter.
"Who wants a stupid slave?" called a woman.
"The Lady Tendite jests," said the Lady Tima, quickly. "The slave is highly intelligent. The House of Tima vouches for this."
"Yes!" said the Lady Tendite. "I but jested. The slave is quite intelligent."
"Perhaps he is too intelligent," said one of the women.
"Look at his eyes," called another. "He does not look like a slave."
"Perhaps he is a master," said another woman, her voice trembling.
"Would you sell us a master for our boudoir?" inquired another. I heard several women gasp, taken aback at the boldness of the question. I was startled. There had been something unmistakable in their response, an expression of excitement, of thrilled, scandalized pleasure. Was that what they desired, I wondered, a master in their boudoir? But if that were true surely they knew that then they, in their own boudoir, would be only slaves.
I knew I must be mistaken.
"No, no, no, no," laughed the Lady Tima. "No!" She seemed amused, but I could tell she was not pleased at the sudden turn the sale had taken. No more bids, I noted, had been forthcoming. "His intelligence, which is quite high," she said, "is that of a man of Earth. He is trained to use his intelligence to anticipate the desires of women, and to obey and serve them. The intelligence of the men of Earth is at the disposal of women. They do what women tell them."
"Are there no masters among them?" asked a woman. "Are they all silk slaves?"
"That is my understanding," said the Lady Tima. "They are all the silk slaves of women."
Surely that is false, I thought. I had known large and strong men on Earth. Yet it was true that many such men, of masculine configuration and size, hastened to obey women. They had been taught that they would not be true men unless they did what women wished. On Gor, of course, it is the women who obey, if they have been made slaves.
"The men of Earth are only silk slaves," said Lady Tima.
I was certain that she was wrong. Somewhere on Earth, here and there, I was certain, there were honestly strong men, in the historical and biological sense, men before women knelt as smaller and weaker creatures, and objects of intense desire. I had thought that I had been such a man. Then I had found myself a slave on Gor. I wondered if more than a handful of men on Earth would ever recollect their manhood. I thought not. It is easier to fear and castigate manhood, than to assume it. The first is well within the reach of the weak; the second is only within the grasp of the strong.
"Only silk slaves!" said the Lady Tima.
"No," I cried, in agony. "No!" There must be true men on Earth!
The whip of the Lady Tendite, suddenly, its blades folded back against its staff, struck me on the side of the face.
"Oh, Jason," said the Lady Tima, pityingly, "did you speak without permission?"
Again I struggled, fiercely, to throw off the men who held me. Then again, helplessly, was I held.
"That is no silk slave," I heard.
"Send him to the quarries!" cried a woman.
"Chain him at a rowing bench," called another. "Let him draw an oar!"
"Bring forth the next slave for sale!" called yet another.
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br /> "Begin the next sale!" called yet another.
"Wait! Wait!" called the Lady Tima.
The crowd subsided.
"Have we truly fooled you, Ladies?" she laughed.
The crowd was silent.
She turned to me. "You did well, Jason," she said. "You played your role well, pretending to be imperfectly tamed." I looked at her, my arms held.
She turned again to the crowd. "Forgive me, Ladies," she laughed. "It seems my jest was but a poor one. I had thought all knew that the men of Earth were mere slaves. Thus, when you saw the slave struggle, obedient to my signal, I thought the farcicality of his activity would be evident. But I see that you are not truly familiar with the males of Earth, fearing that some of them might be men. Is he not a fine actor?" She faced me and struck her left shoulder, as though applauding my performance. Some of the women, too, uncertainly, in the tiers, struck their left shoulders.
"Is he tame?" asked a woman in the fourth tier.
"He is perfectly tame," said the Lady Tima. "I have used him even on my own couch."
I put down my head. I well remembered my humiliation on the couch of my mistress, the Lady Tima.
"Do you guarantee his tameness?" asked one of the women.
"We do," said the Lady Tima. "The House of Tima guarantees his tameness, fully."
"Prove to us that he is tame!" called a woman.
"We shall do so," smiled the Lady Tima. She turned to me. She smiled. She spoke softly. None but those on the platform might hear. "You have had your moment of sport, Jason," she said, "pretending, as is occasionally the wont of the males of Earth, to be a man, but it is now time to remember what you truly are, only a weakling of Earth, one fit to be only a woman's slave."
I looked at her, angrily.
"There are sleen in the House of Tima," she said. "Perhaps you desire to be fed to them,"
"No," I said.
She looked at me.
"No, Mistress," I said. I put my head down, frightened. Well did I recall the fearsome, curved fangs, the long, sinuous bodies, the claws, the lithe muscularity, the incredible swiftness and agility, of the sleen in the House of Andronicus, leaping upward, ferocious, eyes blazing, mouths slavering, to tear me from the rope which suspended me over their heads.