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

by Renegades of Gor [lit]

  turned aside to attend to the females there. “They are taking the women!” cried

  on the fellows, a few ranks in the Cosian press. He, and some others, then back,

  turned back. There was a momentary hesitation in the Cosian advance. I took

  advantage of this to pull in the flanks and send them back over the walkway, and

  then drew the fellows before me closer, freeing some, the lines then being

  shortened, to follow their fellows back. I myself withdrew some ten feet or so.

  There were more screams of women from the wall, women being seized to be made

  slaves. Again the Cosians hesitated. “The women are being taken behind you,” I

  cried to the Cosians, “taken by those who have not even nicked their steel!”

  “Forward!” cried a Cosian officer. “Forward!”

  (pg. 320) “You are losing slaves!” I cried to the Cosians.

  “There are more slaves before you lads, on the piers!” cried the officer.

  “See them strip themselves, eager to be made your slaves!” I cried.

  Some of the Cosians in the rearward ranks turned about. I ordered more of my men

  back. We did not press them.

  “They are pretty!” I cried, “begging for their nose rings!”

  To be sure, many of the women had torn away their clothing, and were now

  kneeling on the landing, by the wall, some with their hands clasped, others with

  them piteously extended, in various attitudes or petition and supplication.

  Among them strode men, some with bloodied swords. I saw small wrists being tied

  together and ropes being put on lovely necks. Those who were slaves were picked

  first, as most desirable, surely at least at the moment, before the disciplining

  and training of the others.

  I saw one free woman backed against the wall, a sword at her belly. Then she

  pulled her robes away from her shoulders and breasts, and then, a moment later,

  at an impatient movement of the sword, which made her wince, thrust them down

  over her hips, and let them slip to her knees. Then she straightened up. The

  sword was then again at her belly, only now it was bared to the sharpened steel.

  She turned her head to the side, in misery, in terror, being assessed. Then, at

  a movement of the blade, and ordered, doubtless, she looked at the fellow. It

  seemed then she was suddenly startled. Then she began to tremble. I had little

  doubt she had seen in him her master. It is an interesting moment for a woman,

  the first time she finds herself looking as a slave into the eyes of her master.

  She quickly knelt, as though fearful of displeasing him. I saw her turned about,

  rudely and thrust up, closely, against the wall. Her hands were bound behind

  her. She was leashed. I saw more than one female slave, kneeling before a

  Cosian, her hands fastened behind her, put her head far back, to facilitate the

  insertion of the nose ring. I saw a free woman, similarly kneeling, similarly

  bound, watch this in terror, and then, quickly and exactly, imitate the action

  of the slaves.

  Some of the women, in one fashion or another, were being marked, or tagged.

  Sometimes this was being done with a (pg.321) circular or oblong pin, rather

  like the temporary nose ring, put through the lobe of the left ear, from which a

  disk or tag dangled. Sometimes the disk or tag was affixed similarly but by

  means of a simple wire passed through the ear lobe, closed and twisted shut.

  Women so marked, of course, could later have their ears pierced. Some fellows

  fastened tags, or other devices, to the nose rings themselves, or to the looped

  cord dangling from the nose ring. With others, the cord itself is color coded.

  Some women were marked by as little as a tag on a thong, fastened about their

  neck, wrist or ankle. Others had their body itself written upon, as with a

  grease pencil. The marking is usually on the upper portion of the left breast.

  Slavers, too, commonly mark women in this fashion, for temporary purposes, for

  example, with lot numbers for sales, and such. Permanent markings are usually

  done with hot irons.

  “You are losing slaves!” I called out, again, to the Cosians.

  “The distribution will be made later!” cried the officer to his men.

  “To whom will they be distributed?” I asked. “To you fellows sweating in the

  front ranks, or to suppliers, officers, and agents? Who says there will be any

  distribution to you fellows, at all? If there is, will you get your pick? Will

  the best women be distributed? What of hundreds of wenches already on their way

  to Brundisium, and Cos and Tyros? Have they been distributed? Did you get your

  hands on them? I think you will have to bid on the leftovers in camp auctions!

  Is not that the way it has been done before? You are fighting for Cos now, not

  in a free company, whose captain will look out for you, who will see what

  beauties figure in your pay!”

  “He says true,” growled a fellow, drawing back.

  “Forward!” cried the officer. “Forward!”

  “Get them while you can!” I cried. “Some are still clothed, others have not yet

  been seized! They cower with their sisters by the wall, half hidden, waiting for

  you!”

  “Do not listen to him!” called the officer.

  “Some are doubtless quite attractive. They have not yet been marked or tagged!”

  “Do not heed him!” said the officer.

  (pg.322)

  “Woe!” I said. “The fellows who have not fought are advancing on them even now!”

  The Cosians wavered.

  Few quarrels fell now at the entrance to the walkway, for those upon the wall

  must now fear the striking of their own men.

  There were more screams of women from the wall.

  “Forward!” urged the officer.

  Now clearly came to the walkway the moans, the weeping protests, the wailing

  lamentations of beauties finding tight bonds being placed on their bodies.

  “Back, back!” I said, softly, to the men about me. “Behind me! Back!”

  “There are less then two hundred left there now, lads,” I called to the Cosians.

  I had the men of Ar’s Station then, to my elation, on the walkway, drawing back

  on either side of me. I spoke softly. Those who had much fought withdrew up the

  walkway, between those who had shielded the women. These other men then, fresh,

  came forward, flanking me.

  I saw a brunet, out from the wall, her wrists thonged behind her, weeping

  copiously, uncontrollably, as the spread prong of a nose ring was pressed

  through her septum, the ring then springing back into shape. She, nose-ringed,

  looked up at her captor, its cord looping up then to his hand. At the slightest

  of tugs she leapt to her feet, weeping, to follow him with perfection. I saw her

  being led away. Others, too, I saw being pulled to their feet, doubtless to be

  taken to improvised holding areas.

  “Even now they are being led away, fellows!” I said.

  “Draw back,” said the officer, angrily.

  He had seen the vacillation of his men, that we had gained the walkway, that

  fresh troops now flanked me.

  Cosians, merce
naries mostly, broke free from their rearward ranks and ran to the

  wall, to claim females. So, too, the, backing away, then turning, did several in

  the forward ranks. The officer rallied enough regulars about himself to assure

  that we would not attempt to press forward.

  “You use our own women as a diversion,” growled a fellow near me, “as though

  they might be slaves!”

  “Look at them,” I said.

  (pg.323) “Aii!” he said.

  “Draw back with me,” I said, softly, backing away. The Cosians, regulars and

  mercenaries, responsive to the orders of their officer, advanced some yards onto

  the walkway. They did not follow us closely, however.

  We saw a shark reach up to the landing, near the walkway, and drag a body, by

  the leg, back into the water.

  “Go back, and tell Aemilianus that the evacuation is complete. He will know what

  to do.

  The man beside me shuddered. It was no accident I had stopped where I had. From

  this point effective quarrel fire could not be directed to the piers.

  “We will stay with you,” said the young man with the crossbow, now beside me.

  His fellow, the other young fellow from the wall, the one with the shield, who

  had protected him in the fighting, was at his side.

  “No,” I said.

  “Is that an order, Captain?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “Obey it.”

  He and his fellows hesitated a moment, then turned, and went toward the piers.

  “The rest of you,” I said, “withdraw now.”

  “You cannot hold the walkway alone,” said a grizzled fellow.

  “Go,” I said. I would not order, nor did I think Aemilianus would either, any to

  stand here beside me, not given what must be done.

  “You will need skilled swordsmen,” said the grizzled fellow, “preferably those

  of the scarlet tunic.”

  “Go,” I said.

  “Four or five will do,” he said.

  “I have four here, including myself,” said a voice behind me.

  “And I am the fifth,” said the grizzled fellow.

  Men were hurrying back down the walkway, toward the piers.

  I turned about, startled.

  “It would be an honor to die in the company of Marsias,” said a tall fellow.

  “I am not Marsias,” I said to him.

  “That is a relief,” he said, grimly, “for I was growing (pg.324) confused about

  the matter. You see, I had thought that I was Marsias.”

  “I recognize you now,” I said.

  “That is flattering,” he said.

  “How is your head?” I asked.

  “Considering that it was struck with a large piece of building stone with great

  force at close range, splendid,” he said.

  I looked at one of the other fellows. There were three behind him. “I see that

  you have managed to find a tunic,” I said to one of them.

  “Yes,” he said, “mine was stolen, in a cell.”

  “That is where I found mine,” I admitted.

  “We were roused by a guard,” said Marsias, “who was checking the walls for

  ruptures which might allow access to Cosians. He found an excellent example of

  such a breach in a certain cell, as you might perhaps remember.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “It was our intention to come looking for you immediately, as you might well

  suppose,” said Marsias, “to settle accounts, so to speak, but Cosians, as seems

  their wont these days, interfered. We had to defend that break in the wall for

  Ahn. When the recall was sounded, we learned, somewhat to our surprise, as you

  might suppose, that I was a hero on the wall, at least according to some, and

  later, too, at the gate. These fellows, and I, decided to look into this, and

  now have done so.”

  “You have found me now,” I said.

  “And will fight beside you,” said Marsias.

  “I am grateful,” I said.

  “The small boats are coming,” said one of the fellows.

  “The Cosians, too, have seem them,” I said. There was considerable excitement on

  the walkway near, and at, its end, and on the landing. I could now see, again,

  too, the standards over the wall of the citadel. The camp commander, he in

  charge of the Cosian forces at Ar’s Station, had resumed his coign of vantage.

  In the boats, approaching from the piers, the same boats which had come earlier

  to help evacuate the landing, there were men with torches and axes. There were

  some small boats, too, at the landing, some perhaps captured, (pg.325) others

  which may have been there earlier, or perhaps within the citadel walls

  somewhere.

  “I gather, from reports of those who were on the wall,” said Marsias, “that you

  impaled the traitress, Lady Claudia.”

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “Or was it our pretentious, nasty little warder, Lady Publia?” he inquired.

  “Do not concern yourself with the matter,” I advised.

  “That would have been an irony,” he remarked.

  “Doubtless,” I said.

  “And a waste,” he said.

  “Doubtless,” I said.

  “Many think that both Lady Claudia and Lady Publia needed to learn their

  womanhood.”

  “Lady Claudia,” I said, “had already begun to learn it.”

  “Like those women on the landing,” said a fellow beside us.

  “Yes,” I said.

  The Cosians there must have taken at least four hundred women on the landing. At

  least two hundred of these were still there. Many were pushed up against the

  wall, in some groups facing it, in others with their backs to it. I had little

  doubt that the delicious loot even now was learning masculine domination. On the

  landing many were kneeling, or bellying. There was much licking and kissing.

  More than one had been put in a display position, and forced to hold it. I saw

  one girl cuffed, and another, one who had perhaps been slow to obey, lashed with

  a strap. Swiftly then, and eagerly, did she begin to lick an kiss her captor

  about the feet and ankles. Some were still being tied and tagged. Others were

  being lined up, their hands tied behind their backs to form coffles, ropes being

  put on their necks. Some, among these many others, were serving even now on the

  landing, being put to use by impatient masters. We could see their squirming

  bodies, their subdued, thrashing limbs, hear their cried, cries with which they

  responded to, and registered and recorded, their ravishments, cries mostly, at

  this point, of protest and lamentation, but, too, in instances, of astonishment

  and wonder, and sometimes, even so soon, of sudden, frightened acquiescence,

  (pg.326) of eager acceptance, of grateful yieldings, dreams coming true in

  thongs.

  “Yes, too,” he said, “many claim, interestingly, to have seen the same female,

  she who was supposedly impaled, whoever she was, later on the wall’s walkway,

  and later, too, with the women an
d children.”

  “Surely that seems unlikely,” I said.

  I noted one girl on the landing. From the way she held her hands behind her back

  I could tell that she was in thumb cuffs. These are handy devices. They are

  light and take up little space in a warrior’s pack. I myself, thinking sometimes

  that thumb cuffs are perhaps a bit cruel, generally prefer, if slave bracelets

  are not available, a simple thong or a short length of binding fiber. A woman,

  of course, may be bound in a large variety of ways and with a large variety of

  materials. For example, one might use strips, cut and rolled, from her own

  clothing, particularly as one will probably be removing the garb from her

  anyway. If she is naked, she might even be bound with short lengths of her own

  hair. two or three horts of hair suffice to tie her thumbs behind her back, and

  another two or three will suffice to tie he two large toes together.

  I might mention two possible reservations pertaining to thumb cuffs. First, many

  feel that they are must less secure than, say, slave bracelets, because of the

  diverse ratios involved, of wrist to hand, and of upper thumb to the thumb

  joint, at their location points. To compensate for this, of course, one can make

  the thumb cuffs tighter, but this produces greater discomfit in the wearer. It

  is harder for her to attend to her lessons, naturally, if she is in pain. I

  generally feel that pain, at least generally, should not be inflicted on a slave

  unless it is meaningful. There can, of course, be a point to generalized

  discomforts, even of a rather trivial nature.

  For example, when a woman has been slept naked on a hardwood floor without

  covers, she is likely to come to a much better understanding of the value of a

  slave blanket. Second, if the woman is in thumb cuffs, and she becomes

  hysterical, it is much easier for her to hurt herself. Accordingly, just as one

  would not wish to secure a sleen or a kaiila (pg.327) in a way in which it might

  inadvertently hurt or injure itself, so, too, one might not wish to secure a

  slave in such a manner. The slave, too, is a domestic animal, and like other

  domestic animals, has a specific value. Accordingly, thumb cuffs, if used on a

  slave, in my opinion at least, should be used only under close supervision. To

  be sure, under such supervision, they might be helpful.