Norman, John - Gor 19 - Kajira of Gor.txt

Norman, John - Gor 19 - Kajira of Gor.txt Page 25

by Kajira of Gor [lit]

  were there. They were dressed entirely in black. They wore masks. One of them

  held an unshuttered dark lantern and the other opened a leather wrapper

  containing keys and tools on the ground. He, then, with a variety of keys and

  picks, and small tools, swiftly, expertly, trying one thing and then another,

  addressed himself to the upper lock. He was skillful, and apparently a smith in

  such matters, perhaps a skilled specialist within his caste. In fifteen Ehn both

  locks had yielded. The cage door was opened and I was pulled out. I was put on

  my back and the inan, swiftly, with numerous small keys, and some of the other

  tools, addressed himself to my collar lock. I felt the collar pulled away. Then,

  in a few Ehn, I had been freed, too, A the manacles, and then the shackles. I

  was turned to my stomach. My right wrist was tied to my left ankle. I struggled

  about, turning my head. I saw the golden sirik put back in he cage; it was not

  the sort of thing, I gathered, which these fellows would care to have found in

  their possession; I then saw the cage closed and the cover readjusted about it,

  then, together, the two men, with the rope, drew it slowly upward; in a few

  moments it hung quietly where it had before, when it had been occupied. If its

  lowering and raising had not been noticed, I did not think that now anyone would

  be likely to find anything amiss until morning, when it would be lowered and

  found empty. The cord which had fastened my wrist to my ankle was then removed

  and I was drawn to my feet. I was startled that I was put in no bonds. A cloak

  was handed to me. I drew it swiftly about my body and over my head, grasping it

  closed with my fists beneath my chin. Over my head as it was, and it being a

  short cloak, too, it fell midway, as I held it about me, on my calves. I was

  grateful not only for the disguise it afforded me, but, too, because it gave me

  some way to conceal my nakedness. I felt a hand at my back and I was conducted

  from the area of the tree and the suspended cage.

  As we removed ourselves from that area we passed the slumped figures of two

  guards, an overturned flagon near them.

  “Holdl” called a drunken voice, as we passed between tents.

  We stopped. My left upper arm, now that we bad left the area of the tree and

  cage, under the cloak, was in the custody of the man on my left. He had taken it

  in charge almost immediately upon leaving the cage area. He did not wish to

  accept the risk, it seemed, that I might attempt to escape, perhaps impulsively

  attempting to dart away into the darkness. There was little danger of that now.

  His grip was like iron. I still held the cloak together, and about my face, with

  my right hand. I attempted to pull the cloak forward more, and averted my face,

  that my features might not be seen.

  “Masks, eh?” said the newcomer. “So she is a free woman, is she? But perhaps not

  for longl”

  He laughed drunkenly, and staggered about, in front of us. He tried to reach for

  the cloak I held clutched about my face. I turned my face away, clutching the

  cloak about it.

  “A modest pudding,” he said, surprised. “Forgive me, Lady,” he said, bowing low.

  Then he staggered about, behind t us, again.

  Then I suddenly felt the cloak being lifted behind t me. “She has legs good

  enough to be those of a slave,” he said. We then proceeded on our way. I was

  shaking. Too, I N now had some idea of the publicness of a slave’s body.

  I was pulled back. into the shadows between some tents. D

  Two guardsmen, with a lantern, passed. Then, gain, we threaded our way amongst

  the canvas-lined lanes of the camp of the men of Argentum.

  Most of the tents were dark. Within some were small fires. When men passed

  between the fires and the canvas wall of the tent we could see their shadows on

  the canvas. In one tent a girl danced slowly, sensuously, before a seated male.

  Her skills suggested that she might be a camp slave, a girl from one of the

  strings of camp slaves, strings Of girls owned by authorized merchants, holding

  contracts for certain season or campaigns, kept within the camp, and traveling

  with it, for renting out to soldiers at fees stipulated in the contracts. Too,

  of course, she might be a girl even from Corcyrus, or another community, perhaps

  a paga girl. Such as these are sometimes brought to the camps on speculation.

  The fees for their use are not contractually controlled, as are those of the

  regular camp slaves, but the fees of the camp slaves, of course, being fixed and

  almost nominal, tend to exert a considerable, informal influence on the market;

  they set competitive standards, ensure realistic pricings and reduce the risk of

  excessive local profiteering. On Earth it is not unusual for a free woman to

  attempt to take a profit on her own beauty, using it, for example, if only in

  mate competitions, to advance herself economically. On Gor, however, if that

  same woman should be enslaved, she will soon discover that the profits accruing

  from her beauty belong now not to her, but to her master. This is quite

  appropriate. It, like she herself, is his.

  As we passed another tent, a darkened one, I heard the ,ounds of chains from

  within. “Oh, more, Master, I beg you, please, more,” I heard, “more, more,

  please, oh, my Master, more, please more, please more, my Master, I beg youl”

  How scandalized I was! What was it within, a harlot, a whore! But I feared it

  was far worse, something a thousand times lower, something a thousand times more

  despicable and helpless, a slave.

  In a few moments we stopped, between some darkened tents. I was then lifted from

  my feet and placed, sitting, on he ground.

  “Why are we stopping here?” I whispered. “Who are you? What are you doing!”

  My last question was prompted by the fact that one of the men, the larger of the

  two, he who had held my left arm, had now crossed my ankles. He was now wrapping

  a long piece of binding fiber about them, sometimes looping them both, sometimes

  taking it about only one ankle, sometimes snaking it about both ankles and

  securing it between both with tightly drawn loops. He even, occasionally,

  threaded an end through other, already secured loops. He then pulled the entire

  tie tight. What he had done was far more elaborate and complex than was required

  to hold a girl’s ankles. A loop or two, properly knotted, I did not doubt, would

  be adequate for the perfect accomplishment of such a task. Then, to my surprise,

  he placed the two loose ends of the binding fiber in my hands. I held them,

  puzzled. He bad not knotted the tie. Similarly no move had been made to secure

  my hands.

  “Waitl” I whispered. “Nol” I then understood what they intended.

  The smaller of the two men, he who had been so expert with the locks and chains,

  placed his fingers across my lips.

  “Nol” I whispered. “Don’t leave me! Who are you? Why have you done what you have

  done?”

  He increased the pressure of his fingers on my lips, and I was silent.

  He leaned close to me and whispered. I did not recognize the voice.
>
  “We have brought you here,,” he said. “It is a half of a pasang from the cage.”

  I nodded, miserably.

  “The camp will be awake in three Ahn,” he said.

  I nodded.

  He withdrew his fingers from my lips.

  “Do not leave me!” I begged.

  “The camp will be awake in three Ahn,” he said.

  “Who are you?” I begged.

  He was silent.

  “Why have you done what you have done?” I asked.

  “Once you did me a kindness,” he said. “I have never forgotten.”

  “What kindness?” I asked.

  “Our accounts are now squared,” he said. “It is done. The matter is finished.”

  “And what, then, is his motivation?” I asked, indicating the’, larger man.

  “It is other than mine,” said the smaller man.

  The larger man then drew his cloak away from me. I was then sitting in the dirt,

  naked, with my ankles fastened together, the two ends of the fiber clutched in

  my hands.

  “Do not leave me,” I begged. “Keep me. I am prepared even to be your slavel”

  The larger man suddenly, angrily, reached for my throat. I felt those large

  hands close about it. For an instant things went black. I know he could crush

  the life from me at his whim.

  “Do not kill her,” said the other.

  The hands left my throat.

  I gasped. I swallowed painfully. The larger man retrieved his cloak.

  The two men stood, preparing to take their leave.

  “Do not leave me here, I beg you!” I whispered.

  “Already, in this,” said the smaller man, “you have been granted more than a

  hundred times the lenience and favor that you deserve.”

  “Are you not my friends?” I asked.

  “No,” said he. “We are your enemies.”

  I looked up at him, in misery.

  “Farewell,” said he, “Lady Sheila, villainess and tyranness of Corcyrus.”

  “Wait!” I whispered.

  But they were gone, and gone in different directions. I thought of crying out,

  but doubtless they would be away by the time men would come, and with their

  masks doffed, who would know them? I would succeed in doing little more than

  calling attention to myself.

  “Wait” I whispered softly, piteously. But they had vanished.

  “The camp will be awake in three Ahn,” the smaller man bad said.

  Feverishly I began to unwind and unthread the binding fiber on my ankles. It

  took me better than an Ehn to do so.

  I saw a lantern approaching, held by one of two guardsmen. I cast aside the

  binding fiber, and then crept to the side, to lie on my belly in the shadows

  behind a tent. I felt one of the tent ropes on my shoulder.

  I heard someone inside the tent stirring in sleep. The lantern of the guardsmen

  had then passed.

  15 Alarm Bars

  “Holdl Who goes there?” called a voice. I heard the snarling of the patrol

  sleen, its jerking at its chain.

  Weeping, I fled back among the tents. The guardsman did not release the sleen.

  He would probably not want it loose among the tents.

  I crouched behind a tent, in the darkness. This was the third time I had tried

  to leave the camp. Once there had been stakes and wire; another time there had

  been a deep ditch; each time there had been guardsmen with sleen. The sleen, I

  had little doubt, had been able to detect my approach, and had led the guardsmen

  to my vicinity. The perimeter of the camp seemed ringed with guards and sleen.

  The camp was heavily guarded. This was perhaps because it was still within the

  range of Corcyrus, and perhaps, too, because of a special captive, a Tatrix,

  thought to be chained in a suspended cage.

  I looked up. I moaned. In the moonlight, not more than a hundred yards away, I

  could see the cage slung from its branch. In my running, and fear, disoriented,

  and once pursued by drunken soldiers, I had inadvertently returned to its

  vicinity. If I were caught I did not doubt but what I would soon again find

  myself the prisoner of those cramped quarters, though doubtless in fresher,

  sturdier bonds, probably of iron, and not locked, but hammered closed about my

  neck and limbs. The cage, too, then would probably be closed with plates and

  rivets, and the guards doubled or tripled about it. I crouched down, my head in

  my hands. In a little more than an Ahn, I feared, the camp would be awakened.

  Already it seemed to me that there were more people about than before, more men

  to avoid.

  I shrank back into the shadows. Two men, cooks, I think, from their

  conversation, were passing.

  I heard wings overhead. Looking up I saw a tarn. It was flying northwest. Behind

  it, on long ropes, dangled a tarn basket. Sleen were no problem for it, I

  thought bitterly. It was not the first such departure, or, indeed, arrival, I

  had noted in the camp.

  I had hitherto avoided the more fit, busy portions of the camp, generally about

  the areas for tradesmen, suppliers and sutlers, and the storage, delivery and

  mess areas.

  There were too many men there, and it would be, surely, too easy to be detected.

  I, then, stealthily, my heart pounding, began to follow, keeping in the shadows,

  the two men who had just passed. I was terribly frightened.

  They were moving toward the center of the camp.

  “What are you doing there, Slut, skulking about?” called a man. I had not seen

  him, between the tents. He had some gear slung over his shoulder. He was

  apparently waiting there. I backed away from him.

  “Let her go,” said another man, emerging from a tent. He, too, carried some

  gear. “You can see she is a slave, returning to her master.” I then hurried

  away. In the darkness they had not detected that I lacked a brand. Too, they had

  not noticed that my neck was not encircled by a slave collar.

  I was now in consternation. I did not see how I could proceed.

  People seemed to be getting up now about the camp.

  “Ena!” called a girl, hurrying to catch up with another.

  I stepped back into the shadows.

  A tall, slim girl, naked, turned about. A bit of slave silk dangled languidly

  from her left hand.

  The new girl was short and lusciously bodied. She wore a brief, silken slave

  tunic, fastened with a single tie at her bosom. A single tug frees the tie and

  allows the garment to be parted for the view and pleasures of a master. Both

  women wore collars.

  “And how did the night go?” asked the new girl. “Were you well used?”

  “Yes,” responded the taller girl, dreamily. “And you?”

  “Superbly,” said the shorter girl.

  The two girls then began to walk down the lane between the tents.

  L my head down, my hair about my neck and shoulders, hopefully tending to

  conceal the bareness of my neck, the absence there of a steel circlet, fell into

  step behind them, seemingly, I hoped, only another slave on her way back to her

  master.

  I soon became aware that this must be a la
ne leading to the chains.

  Other girls, soon, here aid there, entered it, before and behind me, and between

  me and those who had been directly before me.

  “And what of the resistance you -intended to offer?” one girl was asking

  another.

  “It was crushed,” said the other. “He did not choose to accept it. Then he made

  me serve him well.”

  “It is the fifth time you have served in his tent since we left Argentum,” said

  the first girl.

  “Yes,” said the second. “think he likes you,” said the first girl.

  “Perhaps,” said the other.

  “Do you think he will buy you?” asked the first girl.

  “it matters not to me,” said the other. “I do not care, one way or the other.”

  “There are stains on your face as though you bad been crying,” said the girl.

  “And it does not seem to me that you have been beaten.”

  “Oh?” asked the other.

  “You pretentious tarsk sow,” laughed the first girl, “you were begging him to

  buy youl”

  “What if I was!” said the other, tossing her bead.

  “And when did you beg this?” asked the girl.

  “After my resistance bad been crushed, and he made me serve him without

  compromise as a slave,” said the other, and again this morning, before we

  parted.”

  “You seem pleased enough now,” observed the girl.

  “Tassy,” said the other, “he is going to make an offer for me!”

  “That is marvelous, Yitza!” said the first girl.

  “But will Myron let me go?” asked the second girl.

  “I do not know,” said the first. “Such matters are between the men.”

  The second girl moaned.

  “Look at it this way,” said the first girl. “If we did not wear collars we would

  not even know the touch of such men as Rutilius. Too, if we were not slaves and

  sent to their tents, we would not even know what to do. We would be only

  ignorant free women.”

  “How I sometimes pity free womenl” laughed the second girl. “They are so

  stupidl”

  “But fear them, Yitza,” said the first girl, “for they are free and you are

 

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