Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt

  chain on their neck, to which would be attached, normally, a bell, to call

  attention to their whereabouts, and a small, locked coin box. And woe to the

  girl who returns with coins jangling in the box! To be sure, in some places, one

  might even have a paga slave, or a brothel slave, for as little as a tarsk bit.

  “It is too much for a free woman,” he said.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “Particularly one such as that,” he said, contemptuously.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “Perhaps it is appropriate,” he said, “a tarsk bit for a fat she-tarsk.”

  “She is not really so fat,” I said. To be sure, her figure could be considerably

  improved, and, if she became a slave, undoubtedly it soon would be.

  “I have seen tharlarion,” he said, “who were better looking.”

  Lady Temione, lying on her side, her hands tied behind her, stiffened in anger.

  I did not understand her response. Certainly she did not think that she was

  slave attractive—certainly not yet.

  “They could not easily have charged less than a tarsk bit,” I said, somewhat

  irritatedly. I must try to control myself. The tarsk bit, of course, in most

  cities, is the smallest-denomination coin in common circulation.

  (pg. 108) “For so much,” he said, “they should have rented her to you for a

  month.”

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “Such she-tarsks are worthless,” he said. “She probably doesn’t even know what

  to do with her toes.”

  “Probably not,” I admitted.

  Lady Temione looked up, startled.

  “She should have been put in a slave harness and sent to a training school,” he

  said.

  “I doubt that there are any nearby,” I said.

  “She should have been apprenticed to a slave,” he said.

  “Perhaps she will be,” I said. “As I understand it, it was only tonight that she

  was put in the chain collar.” Such training schools are normally found only in

  the cities. Usually, but not always, they are attached to houses of slavers.

  Needless to say, their students are seldom free women, but almost always slaves.

  The harness he referred to was undoubtedly not a security harness but a training

  harness, a complex affair, consisting of numerous straps and rings. It is

  useful, for example, in helping a woman learn how to serve a master while being

  denied the use of certain of her limbs, for example, her hands. It is commonly

  worn naked. Similarly, it helps the woman to adjust to her helplessness and her

  condition, as, in it, she may be fastened in an incredible variety of attitudes

  and positions. Its utility is limited by little more than the imagination of the

  master.

  “You must be a strange one,” he said to me, “to make do with a free female.”

  “She does not have to remain free,” I said.

  Lady Temione shuddered with fear. The tag, and padlock, shook on her collar.

  “That is true.”

  He looked at the Lady Temione. She did not dare to meet that fierce gaze.

  Perhaps it was just as well. She might have been cuffed or kicked. I would not

  have approved had he done this, but under the circumstances, considering my

  purposes, I would not have interfered. As she was within my rental, and a free

  person, of course, the administration of any such discipline was really mine to

  do, and not his. If he wished to beat her, he should have requested my

  permission. (pg. 109) Alternatively, he might have waited a bit, and paid her

  next rent fee himself. Any free person, incidentally, may discipline a slave. If

  this were not the case, then a slave, outside the knowledge of her master, might

  dare to be insolent to a free person.

  “It would not be worth harnessing her,” he said. “She would be too stupid to

  learn.”

  “Any woman can be taught,” I said.

  “I am a free woman!” suddenly wept the Lady Temione.

  He went and crouched beside her. She put her head down, frightened, on the

  blanket.

  “You are not a woman,” he sneered. “You are a she-tarsk.”

  She sobbed.

  “You are not worth sleen feed,” he said.

  “Do not interfere,” cautioned the fellow in space 98, who had been ejected from

  the corner space. “He is dangerous.”

  “I do not expect to do so,” I said. I did not object, of course, to his abuse of

  the Lady Temione. Indeed, the insults, in their way, while certainly overdrawn,

  were not altogether unjustified. The danger, of course, with one of my temper,

  was that I might suddenly feel a point of honor touched. Then, if I should fare

  up and say, pin the fellow to the floor with my blade, my plans would be

  seriously disrupted. I would be as placid as larl feigning sleep, as placid as a

  Dietrich of Tarnburg.

  “What are you saying,” asked the fellow, wheeling about.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  He returned his attention to the Lady Temione.

  “You are worthless,” he told her.

  “She does have auburn hair,” I informed him. “I may be hard to see in this

  light.”

  “Then shave it off, and sell it,” he laughed.

  “The keeper might do that,” I said.

  Lady Temione moaned, helplessly.

  This was, of course, a genuine possibility, particularly in this area at this

  time. women’s hair, long and silky, plaited into heavy ropes, is ideal for the

  cording of catapults. It is far superior, for example, to vegetable fibers. It

  is also superior, in length and texture, to the hair of sleen and kaiila. By

  now, the hair of slaves in Ar’s Station, and doubtless the hair of most of her

  free women as well, donated in the case of the (pg.110) latter as a contribution

  to the defense effort, would have been shaved off, or, perhaps, cropped short.

  If the keeper did decide to shave off, or crop, the hair of the Lady Temione,

  and, for that matter, the others, the Lady Amina, the Lady Rimice, and so on, he

  would presumably sell it to suppliers to the Cosians. Under the current

  conditions, of course, it would be difficult to get such material into Ar’s

  Station. Indeed, in a sense, that was the same problem I faced, finding a way

  into Ar’s Station.

  “Worthless,” snarled the burly, bearded fellow to the Lady Temione.

  The burly fellow stood up. I saw where he had placed the pouch.

  He looked down upon the Lady Temione with contempt. “Get that thing out of my

  sight,” he said. “I do not want my digestion spoiled for breakfast.”

  I myself did not think I would have time for breakfast. I was planning on

  leaving rather early in the morning.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  “The keeper’s man will be along presently,” I said.

  “Do you cross me in this?” he asked.

  “I would not think of doing so,” I said. I located the hilt of my sword. I

  supposed that it might be less than nobl
e to drive a blade through the body of a

  drunken fellow in the dark, but it was probably preferable, all things

  considered, to having one driven through myself.

  “I will take her away,” said the fellow next to me, hastily.

  “It is not your responsibility,” I said, somewhat ungraciously, I fear,

  considering the generosity of his offer.

  “Look,” said he. “I am now well practiced in smiting walls with my back, but I

  have had very little experience in dodging swords, leaping about unarmed, you

  understand, in the darkness, in the middle of a sword fight.”

  “Fight?” asked the burly fellow, interested.

  “So I shall be pleased to return her to the keeper’s desk,” he said.

  I think the burly fellow reached for the hilt of his sword, but I missed it.

  My own blade left the sheath. I stood up.

  The fellow between us moaned, and prepared to crawl rapidly to safety.

  (pg.111) “Oh!” said Lady Temione, lifted now, backwards, to the shoulder of the

  keeper’s man who, unnoticed, had approached. “Slut rent period is up,” he said.

  “Take her away,” said the burly fellow, with a wave of his hand.

  “That is my intention,” said the keeper’s man. He turned his back on us, and I

  saw, again, the face of the Lady Temione, facing backwards, held upon his

  shoulder in slave position.

  “Put her in a tarsk cage,” laughed the fellow. “That is where she belongs.”

  Lady Temione briefly struggled in frustration on the shoulder of the keeper’s

  man, squirming there doubtlessly more deliciously than she knew, and pulling

  helplessly at her bound wrists. She would be carried about and done with, of

  course, precisely as men wished. She looked back now in anger, but also in fear,

  at the burly fellow. Doubtless she thought she was attractive now. She did not

  understand, of course, how attractive, truly, she might be, subject to certain

  alterations in her condition. Our eyes met.

  “Who wants a fight?” asked the burly fellow, unsteadily. He now had his hand on

  the hilt of his sword.

  “No one,” said the fellow between us, hastily, earnestly.

  I did not think the burly fellow could well attack with the other fellow between

  us, not, at least, without cutting him out of the way. That would indeed be a

  poor way for that fellow to end his day, which had not been a very good one

  anyway. I sheathed my sword. I was not even sure that the burly fellow, in the

  darkness, realized I had drawn it. He himself had not proceeded further than to

  get his hand on his sword. I do not think he realized he was in any danger.

  “Are you the one who wants to fight?” he asked.

  “Not me,” I said.

  “Then it is you!” cried the burly fellow, turning on the fellow between us.

  “No!” cried the fellow.

  His response was surely prompt, I thought. It was assured and definite. It left

  little doubt about the matter.

  “I am tired,” announced the burly fellow.

  “It is time then to go to sleep,” said the other man.

  (pg.112) The burly fellow stood there for a moment considering this possibility.

  “Perhaps,” he said.

  I was sure, now, that it would not prove necessary to run the fellow through, at

  least at this time. in such a thrust, of course, he in his present condition,

  there would have been little of honor. Too, it is difficult to use a sword in a

  professional manner in the darkness, and I tend to be vain about such things.

  The sword is less akin to darkness than stealth and the dagger. A recruit, under

  the circumstance, could have felled him.

  “It is time to go to sleep,” announced the burly fellow.

  “Yes, you are right,” agreed the other man.

  This was the second time the burly fellow, this night, had been in considerable

  danger. He would probably not realize this, even in the morning.

  “Sit down,” said the burly fellow to me.

  “Very well,” I said, sitting down. The other man sat down, too, in his space.

  The burly fellow then stood there and looked about him. He was the only one

  standing in the room.

  He had taken the first tub in the baths. He had created a disturbance in the

  paga room. He had had an excellent slave sent to him, perhaps even gratis. I

  suspected he had had a greater variety of food to choose from than I had been

  offered. He had traversed the sleeping room like a hurricane. I doubted he would

  be too popular with the other guests. Indeed, more than one fellow he had struck

  about, making his way to his space. He had even come directly to his space, in a

  diagonal, rather than making use, like other folks, of more neighborly, if

  lengthier, orthogonals. Too, it seemed he had shown me insufficient respect, not

  to mention the fellow next to me, whose paid-for space he had appropriated, nor

  those he had trampled upon, and struck about, in his passage to our area. I also

  did not appreciate his criticizing me, mostly implicitly, for my choice of rent

  sluts. I frankly thought I might have seem more in the Lady Temione than he had.

  If nothing else, considering the prices in the inn, she came cheap. He then sat

  down in the corner space, 99, the safest, most private space on the floor.

  “Do you snore?” he asked the fellow next to me.

  “Never,” the fellow assured him.

  (pg.113) “If you do,” said the burly fellow, “sit up tonight.”

  “I was planning on that anyway,” the fellow assured him.

  I had little doubt the fellow between us planned on taking his leave as soon as

  the burly fellow slept. Could one really count, one wondered, on the burly

  fellow being in a pleasant mood when he awakened? Too, what if he should have

  some savage dream, and start thrashing about, knife in hand, in the middle of

  the night?

  The fellow between us sat back against the wall. The burly fellow looked across

  at me, contemptuously. “User of she-tarsks,” he laughed.

  I noted he wrapped the strap of the pouch he carried about his left arm, three

  or four times. I supposed, like many such pouches, diplomatic pouches, so to

  speak, the strap would be cored with wire, and, inside, within the pouch itself,

  between the leather and a presumed lining, there would be a pattern of

  interlinked rings. These precautions make the pouch immune to the customary

  approaches of the cutpurse.

  In a few moments the burly fellow was breathing heavily.

  I put out my hand and detained the fellow in space 98 who, it seemed, was

  preparing to depart.

  He moaned. “Why is it,” he asked, “that I am never abused by small men?”

  “What is your trade?” I asked.

  “I am a sutler,” he said.

  “Excellent,” I said.

  “I used to think so,” he said.

  That had seemed not improbably to me. There were mostly wagoners, of one sort of

  another, here, or refugees. He did not seem to be a refugee. For example, he did

  not have a companion, or children, with him. Similar
ly, most refugees could not

  have afforded an inn. Too, he did not seem to have the refinement of a high

  merchant nor the roughness of the drover. Drovers, flush with coins, would be

  here, of course, returning from Ar’s Station. On the journey there they would be

  with their animals, probably verr or tarsk. “You are on your way to the Cosians’

  siege camp at Ar’s Station,” I hazarded.

  “Yes,” he said.

  I had thought that, too, was probable, as he was at the inn. He would want its

  protection, probably, for his goods. Coins, (pg.114) or letters of credit, might

  be concealed about a wagon, but it is not easy to conceal quantities of flour,

  salt, jerky, paga and such, not to mention the miscellany of diverse items for

  the field supply of which one can usually count on the sutlers, such things as

  combs, brushes, candles, lamp oil, small knives, common tools, pans, eating

  utensils, sharpening stones, flints, steel, thumb cuffs, shackles, nose rings,

  binding fiber, slave collars and whips.”

  “I have a commission for you,” I said.

  “You want me to kill our friend in 99?” he asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “It is perhaps just as well,” he said. “If I failed to do the job neatly, and he

  awakened, and I was kneeling there with a bloody knife in my hand, one could not

  at all count on his seeing the matter from our point of view.”

  “You are right,” I said.

  “He has a terrible temper,” he said, “and, under such circumstances, it would be

  hard to blame anyone for being cranky.”

  “I thoroughly agree,” I said.

  “What then?” he asked.

  “Listen carefully,” I said.

  7 The Attendant

  (pg.115) “Attendant!” cried the burly fellow, from one of the second tubs, that

  immediately behind one of the first tubs, that most convenient to the entrance

  to the baths. “Stir up the fire!” It was early, but most of the fellows who had

  been sleeping on the floor of the baths during the night had now taken their

  leave.

  The fellow then attending on the baths, rather large for such a fellow, it might

  seem, hooded, too, perhaps to disguise scarring of such a nature as might turn

  the stomachs of bathers, enveloped in a cloak, hobbling, perhaps the result of a