Magicians of Gor

by Norman, John;

"Yes, Master!" she laughed, snatching it up.

  "It would probably be good for her to disguise herself as a free woman," I said.

  "Yes," agreed Milo. He pointed to the garments near his feet, which had been removed earlier by the former Ubara. Lavinia, from the side of the couch, hurried to them, and fell to her knees, to sort through them. This put her, again, of course, on her knees, at Milo's feet. She looked up at him, happily, in her place. Then she bent again to her work.

  "There is a purse here!" she said.

  "It is mine!" cried Talena.

  "It is heavy," said Lavinia.

  "Give it to your master," I said.

  He regarded me.

  "Keep it," I said.

  "It is mine!" said Talena.

  "Slaves own nothing," I said. "It is they who are owned."

  Milo dropped the purse inside his tunic. Some numerous coins, of smaller denomination than gold pieces, I thought, might be useful to him.

  "And do not forget this," I said, lifting up the small, capped leather capsule on its thong which the former Ubara had worn about her neck, which contained the compromising note, which had given her such power over him when he was a slave.

  "My thanks!" said he.

  Talena struggled a little, helplessly, futilely.

  The capsule disappeared in his tunic.

  "And what of the note you received?" I asked. "I trust that it was destroyed."

  "It was too beautiful to destroy," he said. "I tied a thread about it and inserted it between two stones at the theater. I can retrieve it by the thread."

  "Do so," I said.

  "I will not leave it in Ar," he said.

  "Lavinia composed the note, and wrote it out," I said.

  "I had gathered during the events of the morning," he said, "that it had not been written by Talena of Ar."

  "By that slave over there?" I asked.

  "When she was Talena of Ar," he said.

  Talena looked away, angrily.

  "I am pleased to learn," said Milo to Lavinia, "that you did the note."

  "I am pleased, if master is pleased," she said, shyly.

  "It is beautiful," he said.

  "I meant every word of it," she said, looking up at him.

  "It was exquisite," he said.

  "In it," she said, "I poured out my heart to you. I bared my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes, my feelings, my emotions, my heart, to you. I made myself naked before you. I put myself at your feet, vulnerable, begging, helpless, wholly at your mercy."

  "It was like the letter of a slave girl to her master," he said.

  "That is what it was," she said, softly.

  "Dress, slave," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  In a bit Lavinia was bedecked in the robes which had been worn by Talena.

  "That is my clothing!" said Talena. "Tell that slave to take off my clothing! How dare a slave wear such things! Let her be beaten or slain! Tell her to take them off!"

  "I think she will attract little attention in the streets," I said. "Indeed, I do not think that the great Milo in the company of a free woman in the streets will come as any great surprise to passers-by. To be sure, the woman would presumably take great pains to make certain that she was discretely veiled."

  "I shall, Master!" said Lavinia.

  "She-sleen!" said Talena.

  "And if any know the tricks of Appanius," I said, "they will presumably smile to themselves, thinking that this mysterious free woman may find herself, perhaps even in a short while, clad somewhat more revealingly, indeed, perhaps in little more than a slave collar."

  Lavinia laughed. Already, of course, within the robes, she was in a slave collar.

  "And if anyone saw the new slave enter here earlier, when she was a free woman, they will presumably believe it to be her exiting, as well."

  Talena sobbed with fury.

  Lavinia stood before us. She was clothed now, save for her veiling, and the adjustment of the hood.

  "How do you like your free woman, Master?" she asked Milo.

  "You are not my free woman," he said. "You are my slave."

  "But I am in the robes of a free woman," she said.

  "I shall enjoy removing them from you later," he said.

  "I shall look forward to it," she said.

  "You must leave," said Marcus to Milo.

  He nodded.

  Lavinia then knelt before me. It seemed paradoxical to see a woman in the robes of concealment kneeling. "Thank you for giving me to Milo, Master," she said to me. She then, softly, in gratitude, kissed my feet. She then kissed those of Milo, her master. "I love you, Master," she said to him.

  "Veil yourself," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  Then, kneeling at our feet, she veiled herself, and then adjusted the hood.

  She did so well, for she had once been free. On Gor slaves are not permitted to wear the garments of a free woman, unless with the permission of their masters. It can be a capital offense. Earth-girl slaves brought to Gor would not even know the intricate foldings, drapings and arrangements of such robes. To be sure, there is no need for them to learn such things for they do not pertain to them. Similarly, bred slaves, beauties raised on the slave farms for later distribution and sale, would not be likely to possess such skills. In their case, too, let such things remain mysteries to them. One of the things which is a part of a Gorean free girl’s education, once she has reached puberty, and particularly if she is of the upper castes, is the intricate couture of the free woman’s wardrobe. Some slaves, of course, even Earth-girl slaves who have been purchased as women’s serving slaves, are taught these things. The upper-caste Gorean woman, and particularly if she is affluent, is likely to have one or more female serving slaves. Such women seldom dress themselves. Indeed, in some cases, it would not even be easy to do. It is rumored that one of the most miserable of slaveries on Gor is that of a woman’s female serving slave. Not only does she belong to a woman and thus, given the hostility of the free woman for the slave, is likely to be treated with great contempt and cruelty, but she is denied access to men. Indeed, she may be whipped mercilessly for so much as looking at a male.

  "I wish you well," I said to Milo.

  "I wish you well," said Marcus to him.

  "My thanks for everything," said Milo.

  "It is nothing," I assured him.

  We looked down at Lavinia. She, over the veil, from within the hood, looked up at us.

  "Do not forget to buy a whip," I said.

  "I will not," he said.

  "If I do not please you," she said to Milo, "punish me so terribly that I know I must please you."

  "I will," said Milo.

  She lowered her head, in submission.

  "You are both wished well," said Milo to us. We then, in turn, Milo and I, and Milo and Marcus, clasped hands.

  "Do not leave me here with these men, alone!" called Talena.

  But Milo, followed by his slave, had gone.

  We then turned to face Talena.

  She shrank down a little, in her chains.

  "You will never get away with this," she whispered.

  "I have already gotten away with it," I said.

  "I do not understand," she said.

  "You belong to me," I said. "You are now my slave."

  She looked at me with fury.

  "Hail Talena," I said, "Ubara of Ar."

  "Yes!" she said.

  "No," I said.

  "'No'?" she said.

  "No," I said. "Do you not know you are mocked, slave?"

  "It is a technicality!" she said.

  "Not at all," I said. "You are my slave, in full legality."

  She looked at me, in fury.

  "Your slavery is complete," I said, "by all the laws of Ar, and Gor. Your papers, and certified copies thereof, will be filed and stored in a hundred places."

  "You will never get me out of the city!" she said.

  "That can be arranged in time," I sai
d, "when I come for you."

  "'When you come for me'?" she said.

  "Yes," I said. "Tomorrow I will have your whereabouts conveyed to Seremides by courier."

  "I do not understand!" she said.

  "He will not know that you have been enslaved," I said. "He will think only that you were foolish enough to leave the Central Cylinder without guards and perhaps fell in with brigands and were robbed. Surely you can invent some plausible story."

  "He will rescue me!" she said.

  "You will then resume your role as Ubara of Ar," I said. "Things will seem much the same, but they will be, of course, quite different. You are now, you see, my slave."

  "You are mad!" she said.

  "And you will not know when I will come for you."

  She looked at me, frightened.

  "And I will come for you," I said. "I promise you that."

  "No!" she said.

  "Yes," I said, "I will come to claim my slave."

  "I will be in the Central Cylinder!" she said. "I will be surrounded by guards!"

  "You will know that one day I will come for you," I said.

  "Why will you not keep me now?" she asked.

  "My work in Ar is not yet finished," I said.

  "Your work in Ar?"

  "Cos must be cast out of Ar," I said.

  "Seremides will hunt you down! I will see to it!" she said.

  "The downfall of Seremides," I said, "has already been arranged."

  Marcus looked at me, puzzled.

  I nodded to him. "Myron will accomplish it," I said.

  "I do not understand," he said.

  "You will see," I said.

  "Kaissa?" he asked.

  "Of a sort," I said.

  "Guardsmen will turn Ar upside down for you!" she said.

  "There is one place I do not think it is likely that they will look," I said.

  "What place?" she said.

  "Curiosity is not becoming in a kajira," I said.

  She jerked at the bracelets, angrily.

  That place, of course, would be within their own ranks.

  "Cos can never be cast out of Ar!" she said. "Cos is too strong! Cos is invincible!" she said.

  "Ar was thought to be invincible," I said, "—once."

  "Ar will continue to wear the yoke of Cos!" she said.

  "Do not be too sure of that," I said, "and, too, as you are a slave, it is you who may find herself in a yoke."

  "I am not a slave!" she said.

  "Amusing," I said.

  "Recall the papers!" she said. "I shall buy my freedom."

  "You have nothing," I said.

  "Seremides can arrange for their recall," she said.

  "You would let him know that you are a slave?" I asked.

  She blanched. Then she said, "Yes, if necessary!"

  "But it does not matter," I said.

  "I do not understand," she said.

  "You are not for sale," I said.

  She looked at me, angrily.

  "At least not now," I said.

  "Sleen!" she wept.

  "She is going to be here until sometime tomorrow," I said to Marcus. "Accordingly I will now feed and water her."

  "'Feed and water me'!" she said, angrily.

  "Yes," I said. "By tomorrow, at noon, I am sure you will be grateful to me for having done so."

  "You are kind," she said, acidly.

  "On the whole," I said, "if a slave is pleasing, and is striving to serve with perfection, I believe in treating her with kindness."

  "I hate you!" she cried.

  I went to the table and picked up the tray of dainties. "The wine is gone," I said to Marcus. I had poured it out on her, to rouse her. "Would you fill the decanter with water, from the back?"

  "Yes," he said.

  I, then, in a moment, crouched beside Talena.

  "Do not touch me!" she said.

  "You are not interested in offering me your favors, to buy your freedom?" I asked.

  She looked at me, suddenly, sharply.

  I regarded her.

  "Perhaps," she said, coyly.

  I put the tray of dainties on the floor to my left. The makings of the gag I had prepared for her were a bit behind her, to her left.

  She inched forward, toward me, on her knees. She put her head forward, toward me, her lips pursed, her eyes closed.

  I did not touch my lips to hers.

  She opened her eyes.

  "I had once thought," I said, "that Marlenus had acted precipitately in disowning you, but I see now that he, though your father, understood you far better than I. He recognized that his daughter was a slave."

  She drew back in her bonds, in fury.

  "You look well as a slave," I said. "It is what you are."

  "I hate you!" she said.

  "And as for your favors," I said, "do not concern yourselves with them. They are mine to command, as I please."

  She shook with rage.

  "She belongs in a collar," said Marcus.

  "You have been watching?" I said.

  "Yes," he said. He had the wine decanter with him, now filled with water.

  "And eventually I will have her in one," I said. "And then it will be clear to all the world, and not just to us, that she is a slave."

  "You are both sleen!" she wept.

  "Open your mouth," I said. "Eat."

  She looked at me.

  "Yes," I said, "you will be fed as what you are, a slave."

  I then put one of the tidbits into her mouth, and, in a moment, angrily, she had finished it. It is not unusual for a slave's first food from a new master to be received in a hand feeding. It may also be done, from time to time, of course, with all, or a portion, of a given snack, or meal. This sort of thing expresses symbolically, and teaches her also, on a very deep level, that she is dependent upon him for her food, that it is from his hand, so to speak, that she receives it.

  "Although this doubtless does not compare with the provender of the Central Cylinder," I said, "which is reputed the best this side of the palace at Telnus, it is such that you should not come to expect it as a slave."

  She finished another tidbit.

  "We do not have any slave gruel on hand," I said.

  She shuddered.

  "That is enough," I said. "We must be concerned with your figure. You are a little overweight, I think. In a paga tavern or brothel, you would have to be trimmed down a little."

  "Do not speak so of me," she said.

  "Surely you would wish to look well, curled on the furs, at a man's feet, in a lamplit alcove."

  "I," she said, "in an alcove?"

  "Certainly," I said.

  "Never!" she said.

  "I wonder how you would perform," I said.

  "I would not 'perform,'" she said.

  "Oh, yes, you would," I assured her.

  She looked at me.

  "There are whips, and chains, there," I said.

  She turned white.

  "Yes," I said.

  "And for whom would I be expected to 'perform'?" she asked.

  "For any man," I said.

  "I see," she said.

  "And to the best of your abilities," I said.

  "I see," she said.

  "Perhaps, someday, Tolnar, or Venlisius, might be interested in trying you out, to see if you were satisfactory."

  She looked at me.

  "If you were not," I said, "they would doubtless have you severely punished, or slain."

  "I do not understand them," she said. "To uphold the law they have jeopardized their careers, they have entered into exile!"

  "There are such men," I said.

  "I do not understand them," she said.

  "That," I said, "is because you do not understand honor."

  "Honor," she said, "is for fools."

  "I am not surprised that one should hold that view, who is a traitress."

  She tossed her head, in impatience.

  "You betrayed your Home Stone," I
said.

  "It is only a piece of rock," she said.

  "I am sorry that I do not have time now for your training," I said.

  "'My training'?" she asked.

  "Your slave training," I said.

  She stared at me, disbelievingly.

  "But it can wait," I said.

  "You amuse me," she said, "you who come from a world of weaklings! You are too weak to train a slave."

  "Do you remember our last meeting?" I asked.

  "Of course," she said.

  "It took place in the house of Samos, first slaver of Port Kar," I said.

  "Yes," she said.

  "You were not then on your knees," I said.

  "No," she said, squirming a little.

  "But you were in a slave collar."

  "Perhaps," she said.

  "At that time I did not realize how right it was on you," I said.

  She looked away, angrily.

  "As it is on any woman," I said.

  She pulled a bit at the bracelets, angrily.

  "I could not then rise from my chair," I said. "I had been cut in the north by the blade of a sword, treated with a poison from the laboratory of Sullius Maximus, once one of the five Ubars of Port Kar."

  She did not speak.

  "Perhaps you remember how you ridiculed me, how you mocked and scorned me."

  "I am now naked, and on my knees before you," she said. "Perhaps that will satisfy you."

  "That is only the beginning of my satisfaction," I said.

  "Do not pretend to be strong," she said. "I know you are weak, and from a world of weaklings. You come from a world where women may destroy you in a thousand ways, and you are forbidden to so much as touch them."

  I looked at her.

  "I hold you in contempt," she said, "as I did then."

  "Did you think I would walk again?" I asked.

  "No," she said.

  "Perhaps that explains the license you felt, to abuse me," I speculated.

  "No," she said. "That you were confined to a chair was amusing, but I knew that you would free me, that I could do whatever I pleased to you, whatever I wished, with impunity. I despise you."

  "I do not think it would be so amusing to you," I said, "if it were you in whom the poison had worked, paralyzing you, making it impossible for you to rise from the chair."

  She didn't answer.

  "Doubtless such toxins still exist," I mused, "and might be procured. Perhaps one could be entered into your fair body, with so small a wound as a pin prick."

  "No!" she cried, in alarm.

  "But anything may be done to a slave," I said.