Magicians of Gor

by Norman, John;

  "Do the best you can," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Seem to be merely a modest, deferential girl, demurely clad, awed perhaps, discharging your errand."

  "Have no fear," she said, "but what I shall be awed in such a presence."

  "She is only another woman," I said, "and if she were stripped and in a collar, she would be no different from you."

  "Master!" protested the slave.

  "Indeed, you might be first girl over her," I said.

  "Please, Master!" she protested.

  "It is true," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Another thing," I said. "I do not think it would be in your best interest for you to convey to her in any way, inadvertently or otherwise, even in feminine vanity, the hint, to be sure, the false hint, that there might be anything between you and the putative author of the note you bear."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "You are to be only a humble messenger."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "I would not wish for you to be cut to pieces, or boiled in oil," I said.

  "No, Master," she said.

  "What is wrong?" I asked.

  It seemed to me that tears had sprung afresh in the eyes of the slave.

  "No more need I fear, Master," she said, "that I might be of interest to he who is to be the supposed author of the note in question. Now I am only a lowly slave. At best I could expect only to be spurned by his foot from his path."

  "I see," I said.

  "But I would be grateful to him," she said, "for even so small a touch."

  "I see," I said.

  "I would kiss the unstrapped, discarded sandal that had kicked me."

  "You may move," said I, "Lavinia," for that was the name I had kept on her.

  She then, released from the enforced, tense quiescence I had imposed upon her, clutched me gratefully, sobbing with relief and joy. In a few moments she wept, "I yield me, Master!" and I then held her like iron and cried out with joy and she sobbed "I am helpless and taken!" and Phoebe, too, in the arms of Marcus, cried out, herself as well taken, and he, too, uttered a wild cry and a then sudden, low, satisfying growl, and the sounds of Phoebe and Marcus and of Lavinia and myself mingled in the tiny room and it had been done to the slaves once more.

  "I am yours," said Phoebe to Marcus.

  "I am subjugated, and am your slave, Master," said Lavinia to me.

  "Tomorrow," I said, "our project begins."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "You will obey," I informed her.

  "Yes, Master," she said. "Your slave will obey."

  21

  I Receive the Report of a Slave

  "I am terrified, Master!" said Lavinia.

  I thrust her into our small room, in the insula of Torbon, on Demetrios Street, in the Metellan district, and closed the door behind us.

  "How went it?" I asked.

  "I am frightened!" she said.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "How dare I be seen before him," she asked, "as what I am now, a slave?"

  "You will be in the modest livery of a state slave," I said, "not even belled."

  "I am frightened," she said.

  "Pull off the cloak," I said.

  She put to one side the cloak which she had clutched about her, concealing her garment of white wool and the collar on her neck. To be sure, her exposed calves and bared feet would have left no doubt in the streets as to her status.

  "I would not even dare to lift my eyes to his, to look into his eyes," she moaned.

  "You must do so, if he commands it," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said, in a misery.

  "But it may not be necessary," I said.

  "Yes, Master!" she said.

  "Change your clothing," I said, "quickly."

  She drew off the modest garment of white wool, and, then, just for an instant, perhaps hardly even aware of it, she stood before me, naked, and looked at me.

  "Vain slave!" I laughed.

  She blushed, and quickly put down the garment of white wool, and fetched the gray garment of the state slave.

  I smiled.

  Well had she displayed in that brief moment her master's property.

  In an instant she had drawn the tunic of the state slave over her head and was smoothing it down about her hips.

  I regarded her.

  She stood before me.

  "Excellent," I said.

  She smiled.

  I then fetched the collar, designed to resemble a state collar, from the flat leather box. I went behind her and locked it on her neck, above the Appanius collar. She now wore two collars. I then removed the Appanius collar from her neck. In this way there was no moment in which she was not in at least one collar.

  "Do you know what time it is?" I asked.

  "No," she said. "I hardly know what I am doing, or where I am."

  "Kneel," I said.

  Chronometers exist on Gor, but they are rare and valuable. Marcus and I did not have any, of intent, at the time, among our belongings. They would not have seemed to fit in well with our guise as auxiliary guardsmen. In many cities, of course, including Ar, time tends to be kept publicly. Official clocks are adjusted, of course, according to the announcements of scribes, in virtue of various astronomical measurements, having to do with the movements of the sun and stars. The calendar, and adjustments in it, are also the results of their researches, promulgated by civil authorities. The average Gorean has a variety of simple devices at his disposal for marking the passage of time. Typical among them are marked, or calibrated, candles, sun dials, sand glasses, clepsydras and oil clocks.

  She was breathing deeply.

  I sat down, cross-legged, opposite her.

  "Master, too, seems apprehensive," she said. "Forgive me, Master."

  "Catch your breath," I said.

  "Thank you, Master," she said.

  She had not neglected to have her knees in proper position. She was, after all, before a free man.

  We must soon to the theater of Pentilicus Tallux, the great theater, which was more than two pasangs away.

  "I am frightened," she said.

  "How went it?" I asked.

  At this point the eleventh bar rang.

  "It is only the eleventh bar," she said, gratefully.

  "Yes," I said.

  She closed her eyes in relief.

  "You are frightened, are you not?" I said.

  "Yes," she whispered.

  She was entitled to be frightened, I supposed. She was, after all, only a slave.

  "Why are you frightened?" I asked.

  "Because of he before whom I must shortly appear, and as only a slave!"

  "Ah, yes," I said. I myself would have thought her terror might more plausibly have been motivated by what had occurred earlier this morning.

  "Tell me of what occurred in the Central Cylinder," I said.

  "It was much as you had anticipated," she said. "I approached the Central Cylinder. I knelt before the guards, my head down. The capped message tube even touched the stones. I looked up. I made known my errand, that I bore a private message emanating from the house of Appanius for the Ubara. They read my collar. It seemed then surely that I was a girl of Appanius. The guards were skeptical that I would be admitted. However, to their surprise, I was to be permitted to enter the presence of the Ubara."

  "That the message might emanate from a particular person in the house of Appanius, and presumably not Appanius himself, who would not be likely to have any direct business with the Ubara," I said, "was what gained your admittance. The Ubara would suspect, and perhaps even hope, from whom the message might come. Too, of course, that the message was considered "private" would tend not only to confirm her suspicions, but to excite and intrigue her."

  "Yes, Master," said the girl.

  She had, of course, reported to the guards at the Central Cylinder back-braceleted, with the message tube about her neck. In this w
ay, she could not have uncapped the tube and read the message. She would presumably be in ignorance as to its contents. Indeed, in a sense she was ignorant of its contents as Marcus and I, with Phoebe's expert assistance, as it turned out, had composed it yesterday evening, while she had been scouting the public boards for us, for any news that might be of interest. It is best for slaves to approach the public boards in the evening or very early morning, when it is less crowded in their vicinity. In that way they are less likely to be beaten. She did know, of course, its general purport, and its role in our plans. The letter itself, of course, had been written by Marcus. I had removed the bracelets from her and the thong, the tube attached, from about her neck, of course, when we had had our rendezvous, after her departure from the Central Cylinder. I had given her the cloak then and we had made our separate ways back to the insula of Torbon.

  "Go on," I said.

  "My bracelets were checked," she said. "It was found that I was perfectly secured."

  "Yes," I said. Having her back-braceleted, of course, was also a convenience to the guards. That would save them putting her in their own bracelets, before conducting her into the presence of the Ubara.

  "Then I was double leashed," she said.

  "A single metal collar," I said, "with chain leashes on each side?"

  "Yes," she said.

  There are several double leashing arrangements, sometimes with two collars, and sometimes with a single collar, with leash rings on opposite sides. The collars are usually of leather, metal or rope. The leashes, too, are of similar materials. Some collars, stocklike, are of wood. The point of double leashing is security and control. A prisoner is not likely to be able to pull away from two leashes. At least one is likely to restrain him. Similarly, by two leashes he can easily be immobilized, kept in place, held, say, between two leash masters, unable to reach either of them, or a third person. In the case of females double leashing is primarily aesthetic. Certainly a girl would not be likely, more than once, at any rate, to attempt to attack a leash holder, say, to bite or kick. That is something she would never do again. On the other hand, in Lavinia's case, clearly the guards would not wish to risk her approaching the Ubara too closely, even back-braceleted.

  "I was then conducted by five guards within the double gate of the Central Cylinder," she said. "The leader went first. Two were with me, one on each side, each holding a leash. Two followed, with spears. Inside the double gate, I was hooded, and then I was led through what seemed to be a maze of passageways, and levels, and turnings. Sometimes I was even spun about. I had no idea where I was in the Central Cylinder. Then I was told to kneel and my leashes seemed to be fastened down, on either side of me. 'Bring me the message from my dear friend, Appanius,' said a woman's voice."

  "What was the voice like?" I asked.

  "It seemed friendly, even kindly, and charming," she said, "but, somehow, underneath, cold, or cruel."

  "Continue," I said.

  "I felt the tube being taken in hand, and uncapped, and heard the message being removed from it. The leader of the guard, I presume, did this, and then delivered it to the woman. For a time I heard nothing. Then she spoke again. 'It is nothing,' she said, 'this little note from my dear friend, Appanius, news of a coming play. But leave us now, alone. And before you go, unhood the slave. I would see her.'

  "I was unhooded.

  "I was kneeling in what appeared to be a private audience chamber. It must have been well within the cylinder. It was lit by lamps. The hangings were scarlet and magnificent. There was a dais a few feet before me, and on this dais, resplendent in robes of concealment, beautifully veiled, on a curule chair, there sat a regal figure. I was speechless.

  " 'We await without,' said the leader of the guard. He then, with his men, withdrew.

  "The hood which had been removed from me lay to one side. The message tube, with its cap, attached by its tiny thong, was still about my neck.

  "I looked timidly to the woman on the curule chair. It seemed she did not notice me. She read the letter in her hands over and over, seemingly avidly.

  "The chain leashes attached to the leash rings on the metal collar I wore were fastened to rings on each side of me. I was held in place. I could not rise to my feet.

  "The woman on the curule chair looked down upon me. I put my head down to the floor. The message tube then, on its throng, was on the floor as well.

  "'Is that how you kneel before a free woman?' she asked.

  "'Forgive me, Mistress!' I wept. 'The guards were about!'

  "'They are not about now,' she said, 'and even if they were, it is I who am Mistress here, not they.'

  "'Forgive me, Mistress!' I begged.

  "'You will kneel before me demurely,' she said.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said. You can now well imagine how modestly and humbly, and demurely, I then knelt before her."

  "I warned you about that sort of thing," I reminded her.

  "Am I to be beaten?" she asked.

  "No," I said. "Such knee positions become almost instinctive in a female slave, and I would not wish to complicate your training by punishing you for having failed to alter them in a particular case. I do not want your dispositions to respond to become too complex, or inconsistent."

  "Thank you, Master," she said.

  "Too," I said, "the guards were men, and had been present."

  "Yes, Master!" she said.

  "But for your own sake, when you are before free women," I said, "I would advise you to be alert to such matters."

  "Yes, Master!" she said.

  "Continue," I said.

  "The woman looked down at me. I scarcely dared look at her. Muchly did I keep my head down. I even trembled. You can well imagine how small, and meaningless, I felt there."

  "Certainly," I said, "in such a place, in the presence of such a personage, the Ubara of Ar herself."

  "Oh, yes, Master," she said, "certainly that. But it was not just that."

  "Oh?" I said.

  "I think it was even more that she was a free woman, and that I was before her, only a slave."

  "I see," I said.

  "'This note does not come from Appanius,' she said to me.

  "'No, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Do you know from whom it comes?' she asked.

  "'From the beautiful Milo,' I said.

  "'Do you know its contents?' she asked.

  "'No, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Can you read?' she asked.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.

  "'But you have not read it?'

  "'No, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Have you some concept of its contents,' she asked, 'any inkling as to its purport?'

  "'I fear so, Mistress,' I said.

  "'Do you know who I am, girl?' she asked.

  "'The majestic and beautiful Talena,' I said, 'Ubara of Glorious Ar.'

  "'He could be slain for even thinking of writing such a letter,' she said.

  "I was silent.

  "'He has even signed it,' she said.

  "I was silent.

  "'What a fool,' she said. 'What a poor, mad, infatuated fool.'

  "I was silent.

  "'How could he do anything so compromising, so foolish, so utterly mad?' she asked.

  "'Perhaps he has been driven out of his wits by some brief glimpse of the beauty of Mistress,' I whispered."

  "Excellent, Lavinia," I commended her.

  "'Speak,' she commanded me.

  "'He has given performances in the Central Cylinder,' I continued, 'readings, and such. Perhaps in one of these times, due to no fault of Mistress he was charmed by her voice, as by the songs of the veminium bird, or again, by her grace and manner, the consequences of a thousand generations of elegance and breeding, or again, once more through no possible fault of Mistress, perhaps in a moment of inadvertent disarray he was so unfortunate as to glimpse a portion of her briefly unveiled features, or note a width of slender wrist betwixt cuff and glove, or even, beneath the hem of her robes, fe
arful to contemplate, the turn of an ankle?'

  "'Perhaps,' she said. And I had no doubt, Master, that the royal hussy had seen to it that such signals, such signs, such intriguing glimpses, such supposed inadvertencies, and such, had abounded!"

  "In this," I said, "perhaps she was not so different from you."

  "Master!" cried Lavinia, scandalized.

  "At least," I said, "she never knelt at his side, in bangles and slave silk, and reached out to touch him."

  "Had she been in my place, and only a slave," she said, "she might have done so!"

  "Perhaps," I said.

  "I think so, Master!" said Lavinia.

  "And perhaps have found herself in the fields?"

  "Perhaps, Master," smiled Lavinia.

  The thought of the regal Talena shorn and in the fields was indeed an amusing one.

  I thought of her, struggling under the weight of the yoke and buckets, as had Lavinia, staggering to bring drink, herself a slave, to other slaves, the robust, bronzed field slaves, gangs of them, toiling in the fields of Appanius. It is pleasant to see beautiful women, in their collars, set about such labors.

  "Master?" asked the slave.

  "Continue," I said.

  "'Do you know that he dedicated the first performance of his "Lurius of Jad" to me?' she asked.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I responded.

  "'It is said to have been his finest performance,' she said, the she-sleen!"

  "Come now, Lavinia," I said.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.

  "'And he has dedicated many other performances to me, as well,' she said.

  "'Yes, Mistress," I responded.

  "'Hailed as inspired performances,' she said.

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said. Surely, Master, she must understand the political aspects of such things!"

  "Continue," I said.

  "'But then I have inspired many artists,' she said."

  "Continue," I said. I smiled to myself. I wondered if the Ubara could be taught slave dance. If so, she might learn what it was like, truly, for a woman to inspire men. To be sure, the beauty of almost any slave is seldom ineffectual in such matters.

  "'I should destroy this letter,' said the Ubara to me. 'I should burn it in the flame of one of these tiny lamps.'

  "'Yes, Mistress,' I said.