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by John Norman


  She turned her head toward me, and looked at me, through her hair, with glazed eyes.

  She put her head down.

  I knelt behind her, and above her, on one knee, and, with a snap, fastened the slave collar on her throat.

  She did not protest. She knew that she had yielded to me, as a slave girl to her master.

  I took her by the shoulders, and turned her on her back. her entire belly and breasts, like much the rest of her body, was rich with the beautiful mottlings. I touched the nipples. How beautiful there were, large, delicate, sensitive now, almost painfully swollen with blood. I kissed them. She reached for me again, lifting her head, the chain at her neck, lips parted.

  When I again noted the lamp, it had burned low.

  I rose to my knees, and looked down upon her. I saw my collar locked at her throat.

  “Greetings, Slave,” I said.

  She looked up at me.

  “Tomorrow,” I said, “we make landfall in Laura. I will then release you from the hold.” I bent to her throat, there was still fastened the golden chains and claws that she had worn when she had met us, long ago, at the exchange point, which she had worn when she had been purchased, which she had worn in the hold. I removed the chains and claws. She did not protest. Then I bent to her left ankle and removed the anklet of threaded shells. She did not protest. She was no longer a panther girl.

  “When I release you tomorrow from the hold,” I asked, “which garment shall I bring you?” She turned her head to one side. “The garment of a female slave,” she said. Rim and I, and Thurnock, moored at Laura, in the stern castle, studied a rough map of the territory north and east of that rustic town.

  On the map, as nearly as we could, we traced, with various straight lines, what we would take to be the path to Verna’s camp and dancing circle.

  “Somewhere in here, I said, pointing with a stylus, “they must lie.” “why not follow the tree blazings, and such?” asked Thurnock.

  “If the girls Tana and Ela knew so well the route to the camp and circle,” said Rim, “others, too, must know of it.” “Further,” I said, “it is my understanding that Verna expects Marlenus of Ar to pursue her. It is doubtless important to her that he do so, to accord with her plans, those plans by means of which she hopes to take vengeance upon him for her former capture and humiliation.” I looked at Thurnock. “It is quite possible,” I said, “that she would even permit such information to fall into his hands.” “That she might know his approach route, and perhaps ambush him,” said Rim, running his tongue over his lips.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “We would not care,” said Rim, “to fall into her trap.”

  “But Marlenus,” said Thurnock, “He is a great Ubar. Surely he will be wary?” “Marlenus,” I said, “is a great Ubar, but he is not always wise.” “Marlenus,” said Rim, “doubtless believes himself to be the hunter. He expects panther girls to feel from him and his men. He expects difficulty only in managing their capture.” “The tabuk he expects to net,” I said, “are not unlikely panthers, she-panthers, following him, intent upon their own hunt.” “Aiii,” said Thurnock.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “On the other hand,” said Rim, “Verna does not know of us. We have with us the element of surprise.” “I do wish,” I said, “to approach the camp from some direction other than the blazed trail. On the other hand, I am not interested in storming it with slave nets.” “Do you expect to deal with panther girls?” he asked, smiling.

  I put down the stylus on the map. “I am a merchant,” I said.

  “How shall we proceed?” asked Thurnock.

  “We shall make a base camp, in accord with our putative interest in obtaining the skins of sleen,” I said. “Then, selected men will enter the forest, but as though they did not know the location of Verna’s camp and dancing circle. We must then make contact with some members of her band. Either they will contact us, or we them.” “It is not uncommon for panther girls to first make contact,” said Rim, smiling, “with a hunting arrow in the back.” “We shall release, suitably braceleted, a slave girl, to make contact with them.” “They will hunt her, and capture her,” said Rim, smiling.

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Then the girl,” said Rim, “will give them our message, that we would negotiate for female slaves they may have in their camps.” “What girl, braceleted, could live in the forests?” asked Thurnock. “No girl, braceleted,” I said, “can live long in the forests. That will be an incentive to the girl we release to see that she swiftly falls to Verna’s band.” “Yes,” said Rim, “and if she fails to find Verna’s band, she, braceleted, will be forced to return to us.” “Yes,” said Thurnock.

  “But I expect,” I said, “that she will have little difficulty in falling in with Verna’s band.” “You have in mind a skilled girl,” said Thurnock, “one experienced in the way of the forests.” “Yes,” I said.

  “But,” said Thurnock, troubled, “have you considered that they, the panther women of Verna’s band, might keep the girl we have released?” “I have considered that,” I said.

  Thurnock looked at me, puzzled.

  “Suppose,” said I, “that the girl released, she who is captured by Verna’s band, is well know to Verna. Suppose that that girl were a rival to Verna, a personal enemy, one of long standing.” Rim laughed.

  “What then,” asked I, of Thurnock,” do you suppose Verna, and her band, would do with her?” “I see,” said Thurnock, grinning.

  “She would be promptly returned to slavery,” said Rim.

  “And,” said I, smiling, “we would have made contact with Verna’s band, and we would get our girl back.” Thurnock grinned. “But what girl could we use?” he asked.

  “Sheera,” said I.

  Thurnock nodded, and Rim laughed.

  “I thought,” said I, “that it would not be impossible that I might find use for that piece of property.” “I gather,” said Rim, “that you have already found uses for that bit of property, in the hold.” “Yes,” I said, “but that is unimportant.” She was only a slave.

  “One thing troubles me,” said Rim. “Verna has taken Talena to the forests, to bait a trap for Marlenus. Why then should she sell her to you?” “That may be a matter of timing,” I said, “and of information, and prices.” “How is that?” asked Rim.

  I shrugged. “Suppose Marlenus falls to Verna,” I suggested. “Then she would not need the bait longer, and might, for a good price, dispose of it.” “Marlenus? Fall to Verna?” asked Thurnock.

  “Panther girls are dangerous,” I said. “I do not think Marlenus, who is a proud man, well understands that.” I looked at Thurnock. “But,” said I, “ the important thing to Verna’s plan is that Marlenus believe she holds Talena. As long as he believes that, it does not make a difference whether she does, or not. So, why might she not, provided the sale is secret, sell Talena to me, regardless of the outcome of her pursuit of Marlenus?” “Perhaps she would fear you would simply, for gold, return Talena to Marlenus,” said Thurnock.

  “We shall convince her, “ I said, “ that we are of Tabor.”

  Tabor, though a free island, administered by merchants, would not be eager to affront Tyros, her powerful neighbor. For more than a century there had been bad blood between Tyros and Ar. A merchant of Tabor, accordingly, fearing Tyros, would not be likely to return Talena to Marlenus. Such an act might mean war. It would be far more likely that the girl would be presented to Tyros, the daughter of their enemy, naked and in chains of a slave, as a token of good will. The bad blood between Tyros and Ar had primarily to do with Tyros’ financings of Vosk pirates, to harry river shipping and the northern borders of Ar. Vosk pirates now little bothered the realm of Ar, but the memories remained. Vosk traffic, to Ar, which has no sea port, is important. It permits her much wider trade perimeters than would otherwise be possible. Something similar is true of the Cartius, far to her south. Unfortunately for Ar, or perhaps fortunately for the ma
ritime powers of Thassa, it is almost impossible to bring a large ship or barge through the Vosk’s delta to the sea. Ar remains substantially a land power, but the river traffic, on the Vosk and, to the south, on the Cartius, is important to her. Tyros’ financing of Vosk pirates, over the past century, was an attempt to deprive Ar of the Vosk markets, and make those markets more dependent on overland shipments of goods, originally debarked at shore ports, brought to them by the cargo ships of Tyros, and other maritime powers. “What if you do not convince her?” asked Rim, “that you are of Tabor?” I shrugged. “If the price is high enough,” I suggested, “Verna may not much care whether we are of Tabor or not.” “What, however,” asked Rim, “if she does not chose to sell?” Rim was standing at the window of the stern castle, looking out.

  “Then,” said I, “we shall have no choice but to take Talena by force.” “What if there is an objection,” inquired Rim, “raised on the part of Verna, and her panther girls?” “We have more than enough slave chains for Verna and her entire band,” I said. Rim was still peering out the window of the stern castle. Then he said, “It is the Rhoda of Tyros.” I went to the window, Thurnock pressed beside me.

  Turning slowly, sweetly, into the wharves of Laura was the heavy-beamed, large medium galley, bright with the yellow of Tyros. I saw her yard being lowered, its sail left slack, to be removed from the yard and folded. On her deck I could see springals and catapults. Her crew moved efficiently. I heard the beat, over the water, of the copper-covered drum of the keleustes, marking the time for the oars.

  It was the ship from Tyros which had been moored near the Tesephone in Lydius, the same which had cast off, following the departure of the Tesephone from Lydius.

  It would have been difficult to bring such a ship this far on the river. Twice in the Tesephone’s own journey upriver, even with her shallow draft, we had gently ran aground and must needs use the poles to free ourselves. I was interested that her captain had brought such a ship to Laura. It was, on the wharves, attracting attention. The only craft commonly seen in Laura were light galleys, and the ubiquitous barges, towed by tharlarion treading along the shore.

  “What business has such a ship in Laura?” I asked Rim.

  “I do not know,” he said.

  “It is not impossible,” said Thurnock, “they are concerned with common trade, panther hides and sleen furs, and such.” “No,” I said, “it is not impossible.” We could now see the crew of the Rhoda casting lines to the men at the wharf. She would soon be moored.

  “Tyros,” said I, “is enemy of Ar. Should Marlenus fall to Verna and her band, Tyros might be much interested in his acquisition.” It was perhaps for such a reason that the Rhoda had come upriver to Laura. It would be quite a coup for Tyros, I surmised, did the great Ubar fall into their hands.

  “Perhaps they are not interested in Marlenus,” said Rim, looking at me. I regarded him, puzzled.

  “Who knows,” he asked, “what may happen in the forests?”

  “What shall we do, Captain?” asked Thurnock.

  “We shall proceed with our plans,” I said.

  “You know what you are to do?” I asked Sheera.

  “Yes,” she said, standing before me, deep with the forests.

  In the brief sleeveless garment of white wool, my collar at her throat, her hair bound back by a fillet of white wool, she might have been any slave girl. “Extend your wrists,” I said.

  “You’re not going to bracelet me!” she cried.

  If I did so, she would be almost helpless in the forests.

  “No!” she cried.

  I snapped the bracelets on her. Her wrists were confined some four inches apart. It would be difficult for her to run, almost impossible to climb.

  “Do I mean nothing to you?” she asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “The hold,” she protested.

  “It mean nothing,” I told her.

  She put her head down, a braceleted slave girl.

  Rim and Thurnock were with me, and five men. We had come deep into the forests. We had brought with us a pack of trade goods, some gold. The pack, and gold, was now flung to one side. Before that it had been strapped to Sheera’s back. We would now make camp, putting sharpened stakes about our camp, to protect us from animals, and the nocturnal attacks of panther girls.

  Sheera lifted her eyes. “They may simply slay me,” she said.

  “Panther girls,” said I, “are not likely to slay a braceleted slave.” “I am Sheera,” said the girl, suddenly, proudly. “I am the enemy of Verna. If she captures me, she may slay me.” “You are Sheera,” I said. “If you captured Verna, branded and collared, what would you do with her?” she looked at me, angrily. “I would return her to slaver,” she said, “and promptly.” “Precisely,” said I.

  “What if I do not fall in with her?” asked Sheera.

  I held the chain joining the slave bracelets. I shook it, that she might well feel the steel retainers on her wrists.

  “Then,” I said, “I expect you will fall in with sleen, or forest panthers.” She looked at me, with horror.

  “Permit me to start now,” she said.

  I looked at the sun, and then away. “It is a bit early,” I said, “for a slave girl to escape.” “But the sleen,” she said, “the panthers!” “Kneel, and wait,” I said.

  She knelt, braceleted.

  I did not expect it would take long for Verna’s girls to pick her up. We had made no effort to conceal our movements, or trail. I suspected that, already, they were aware of our presence in the forests. I had seen, an Ahn earlier, before we had reached this camp site, a tawny movement in the brush, some fifty yards in front of us, and to our left. I did not think that it was a forest panther.

  The men were cutting and sharpening stakes, and setting them in the ground, about our camp site.

  I looked at Sheera, kneeling in the bracelets.

  Then I sat down, cross-legged, and withdrew an arrow, for the great bow, from its quiver and, with thread and a tiny pot of glue, bent to refreshing one of the shafts.

  Above Laura, north of her, there lie several slave compounds. It had taken the better part of the morning, but Rim and I, and Thurnock, had found the blazed tree, blazed with a spear point, several feet high on the trunk. We had then found the next tree, to establish the line. We had marked the points and line on our map. On the map, later, in the stern castle, we had traced out, with greater accuracy than had hitherto had been possible, following the directions of Tana and Ela, what should be the location of Verna’s camp and dancing circle. Our original estimate, we were pleased to note, was not grossly inaccurate. We would, of course, as before, if the need arose, not approach the camp by the familiar route. If it should prove necessary to storm the camp with slave nets, we would do so after a secret approach, striking decisively, and fiercely from an unexpected direction.

  Things were going well.

  I thought of the slave girl, Tana, paga slave in the tavern of Sarpedon of Lydius. I wondered how she would relish her new duties. I wondered if Sarpedon would have beaten her, for concealing from him her skills. It was quite probable. She would look well, when not carrying paga, dancing in the sand. A slave girl is not permitted to conceal her skill as a dancer from Sarpedon, her master. Yes, she would have been beaten. Then, that night, as Sarpedon had promised, she would dance.

  As she danced, I trusted that she would think of me.

  She had made her decision. It had been a brave decision. But it had not been a decision without its risks. She had gambled. She had lost.

  I thought, too, of Telima. She, too, had made her decision. Let her remain, if she wished, in her beloved marshes.

  I sought Talena.

  I smiled.

  Talena was not a simple paga slave, as was Tana. Talena was not a simple rence girl, indigenous to the marches, as was Telima. Talena was the daughter of a Ubar!

  It was not simply that Tana was beneath me, a rich man, Bosk, admiral in Port Kar
. She, slave, was beneath any free man. She was only kept alive for one purpose, to serve such men, and be pleasing to them. And Telima, though she was very beautiful, was a rence girl. She was of low caste. She was scarcely fit consort for one of my position. But Talena, she was the daughter of a Ubar. She might, with fitness, sit by my side.

  She would be acceptable.

  I mused.

  In time, I might become first captain in the Council of Captains. And who knew what political occurrences might take place in Port Kar? I was popular in the city. Perhaps in time there would be a Ubar in Port Kar.

  At my side Talena would be the most beautiful, the richest and the most powerful woman on Gor.

  I finished with the arrow on which I was working.

  I would rescue her.

  We would repledge our companionship. And who knew to what heights I might raise the chair of Bosk? Indeed, with Talena at my side, the daughter of the great Ubar of Ar, my fortunes, in many matters, might be much improved. The companionship would be an advantageous one. She, by virtue of her influences and associations, could bring me much. Who knew to what heights, in time, might be raised the chair of Vosk? Perhaps, in time, it might stand as high, or higher, than the throne of Ar? And might there not come to be, in time, an alliance of Gor’s greatest sea power and her greatest land power, and, perhaps, in time, but one throne?

  We would make a splendid and powerful couple, the envy of Gor, Bosk, the great Bosk, and Talena, the beautiful Talena, daughter of a great Ubar, his consort. I rose to my feet, the arrow well refeathered, and set it to one side, across two rocks. In the morning it would be dry and I would replace it in the quiver. I looked at Sheera.

  The shadows were longer. It was late in the afternoon. She looked at me. I turned away from her.

 

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