Dancer of Gor coc-22

by John Norman

  "Forgive me, Master," I said.

  "Get the belt back on," said one of my master" s men.

  "Yes, Master," I said. The key was again left in the lock. The paper which had been extracted from the errand capsule was then rerolled, and thrust in the capsule, and the capsule again capped. The message read, I have been told, "You have been captured."

  "Another for the black chain of Ionicus," said one of my master" s men, Ionicus was a master of work chains. He ahd several, the "red chain," the "green china," "the yellow chain," and so on, each of which boasted several hundred men. Supposedly these were free work chains, «free» in the sense of not utilizing slaves. Goreans generally do not employ slaves for such labors as road construction, siege works, raising walls, and so on. Similarly they generally would not use them for the construction of temples and public buildings. Most such work is generally done by the free labor of a given community, though this "free labor" may, upon occasion, particularly in emergencies, be "levied," the laborers then contributing their labor as a form of special tax, or, if you like, «conscripted» or "drafted," rather as if for military service. Usually, of course, the free labor is paid, and with more than provisions and shelter, either from public or private funds. Any city in which free laborers tended to be systematically robbed of their employments in virtue of imbonded competition would doubtless be inviting discontent, and perhaps, eventually, revolution. Besides, the free laborers share a Home Stone with the aristocracies of these cities, the upper castes, the higher families, the richer families, and so on. Accordingly, because of this commonality of the Home Stone, love of their city, the sharing of citizenship, and such, there is generally a harmonious set of economic compromises obtaining the labor force, in general. Happily, most of these compromises are unquestioned matters of cultural tradition. They are taken for granted, usually, by all the citizens, and their remote origins, sometimes doubtless the outcome of internecine strife, of class war, of street fighting and riots, of bloody, house-to-house determinations in the past, and such, are seldom investigated, save perhaps by historians, scribes of the past, some seeking, it seems, to know the truth, for its own sake, others seemingly seeking lessons in the rich labyrinths of history, in previous human experience, what is to be emulated, and what is to be avoided. Some think that out of such crises came the invention of the Home Stone. There are, of course, several mythical accounts of the origin of the Home Stone. One popular account has it that an ancient hero, Hesius, once performed great labors for Priest-Kings, and was promised a reward greater than gold and silver. He was given, however, only a flat piece of rock with a single character inscribed on it, the first letter in the name of his native village. He reproached the Priest-Kings with their niggardliness, and what he regarded as their breach of faith. He was told, however, that what they gave him was indeed worth far more than gold and silver, that it was a "Home Stone." He returned to his native village, which was torn with war and strife. He told the story there, and put the stone in the market place. "Of the Priest-Kings say this is worth more than gold and silver," said a wise man, "it must be true." "Yes," said the people. "Ours," responded Hesius. Weapons were then laid aside, and peace pledged. The name of the village was "Ar." It is generally accepted in Gorean tradition that the Home Stone of Ar is the oldest Home Stone on Gor.

  "Yes," said the other of my master" s men. My master was Tyrrhenius of Argentum, who owned the tavern. To be sure, I had not been allowed to dance there. He did not want me to be well known as one of his girls. He had surreptitious dealings with various masters of work chains, among them he called Ionicus. My master had once, while I was licking his feet, congratulated me on being an excellent Lure Girl. "Thank you, Master," I had said. I was a slave girl. We must obey our masters.

  "Get the cart," said the first of my master" s men.

  "Yes, Master," I said, and hurried out to the street, where we had left the hand-drawn cart.

  Whereas in the cities, where the rights of citizenship are clearest, where the sways of custom and tradition tend to be jealously guarded, where the influence of Home Stones is likely to be most keenly felt, free labor was generally held its own, the same cannot be said for all rural areas of Gor, particularly areas which fall outside the obvious jurisdiction or sphere of influence of nearby cities. Too, it is difficult to be a citizen of a city if one cannot reach it within a day" s march. Citizenship, or its retention, on other than a nominal basis, in some cities, is contingent on such things as attending public ceremonies, such as an official semi-annual taking of auspices, and participating in numerous public assemblies, some of which are called on short notice. Accordingly, for various reasons, such as lack of citizenship, an inability to properly exercise it, resulting in effective disenfranchisement, or, most often, a fierce independence, repudiating allegiance to anything save one" s own village, the farmers, or peasantry, are more likely to suffer from the results of cheap competition than their own urban brethren. In the last several years, the institution of the "great farm," with its projected contracts, its organization and planning, its agricultural expertise, and its imbonded labor force has become more common on Gor. Some Gorean farmers own their own land, and some share in land owned by a village. It is not unknown for both sorts to receive offers from agents of the "great Farms," sometimes owned by individuals, and sometimes by companies, whose capital has been generated by the investments of individuals who are, in effect, stockholders. Many times these offers, which are usually generous, are accepted, with the result that the amount of area under cultivation by the great farms tends to increase. Sometimes, it is said, that cruel and unfair pressure is applied to farmers, or villages, such as threats, or the burning of crops, and such, but I would think that this would surely be the exception rather than the rule. When the great farms can usually achieve their aims, statistically, by legitimate business measures there would be little point in having recourse to irregular inducements. Too, the Gorean peasant tends to be a master of the "peasant bow," a weapon of unusual accuracy, rapidity of fire, and striking force. Usually, as it is their caste policy, the farmers or villagers seek new land, usually farther away, to start again. They seldom attempt to enter the cities, where they might eventually contribute to the formation of a discontented urban proletariat. Their caste codes discourage it. Also, of course, they would generally not be citizens of the city and in the city there would be little opportunity for them to practice their caste crafts. Also, may cities, save those interested, for one reason or another, in increasing their population, for better or for worse, tend not be enthusiastic about accepting influxes of the indigent. Such have contributed, through economic hardship, or treachery, to the diminishment, and even fall, of more than one city. I think that the cities, on the whole, have mixed feelings about the great farms. Whereas they welcome currently lower prices on produce and greater assurances of its variety and quantities, they also tend (304) to regret the withdrawal or loss of the local peasantry, which provided them not only with a plethora of individual suppliers, tending to generate a free market, complex and competitive, but also with a sphere of intelligence and even defense about the city. An organization of great farms, acting in concert, of course, could reduce competition, and eventually regulate prices rather as they pleased, particularly with regard to staples such as Sa-Tarna and Suls. Accordingly some cities have been willing to offer inducements to farmers to remain in their vicinity, such as a liberalization of the requirements of citizenship, the performance of rural sacrifices, the holding of games in rural areas, subsidizing the touring of theatricaland musical troupes in the countryside, special holidays honoring the agricultural caste, which may be celebrated in the city, and so on. In many cases these inducements appear to have been effective. The farmer likes to be appreciated, and to have the importance and value of his work recognized. He thinks of his caste as "the ox on which the Home Stone rests." Too, of course, he generally prefers to stay where he is. He is fond of the land he knows.

  I
put myself between the handles of the cart and, drawing it, returned into the alleyway. The fellow was now bound and gagged. He was tied as helplessly as though he might have been a woman, and a woman who was only a slave. He was still unconscious.

  "Go, watch," said one of my master" s men.

  I quickly turned about and ran to the end of the alleyway, where I could see the street, both ways.

  Two forms of work groups not localized to individual cites are the "free gang" and the «free» chain. These differ both from the free laborers indigenous to a given city and from work groups of slaves, such as those which are commonly used on the great farms. The "free gang" consists of free men who are in the hire of a contractor who rents their services, and his own, say, to various cities, organizations, and groups. They are, in effect, something like traveling construction crews. Many of them are skilled, or semiskilled, workers, and they can come and go as they please. They travel about in wagons. Many of them are rough, but good-hearted men. They enjoy drinking, brawling and mastering slaves. I had been in the arms of some such men in Brundisium. They made me serve well. The «free» chain, on the other hand, consists usually, I had been told, of condemned criminals. Rather than bother with housing these fellows, many of whom are supposedly dangerous, putting them up at public expense, and so on, many cities, for a nominal fee, turn them over to a work master who accepts charge of them, theoretically for the duration of time remaining in their sentences. For example, if a fellow has been sentenced, say, to two years of hard labor by a praetor, he might be turned over, for a small fee, to the master of a work gang who will see to it, theatrically, that he performs these two years of hard labor. The work master of course, profits from the services of his gang, which he rents out to various individuals, or groups, and so on, rather as the managers or captains, of the «free» gangs can rent out their own crews. The «free» chain, of course, can be hired more cheaply. On the other hand, it usually tends to have a far more limited pool of skills than that of the "free gangs" and, accordingly, it is usually employed in ruder, less demanding labors, or even in labors which, because of their arduousness, or their onerous nature, would be distasteful to free gangs. Supposedly when the criminal" s sentence has been served, he is to be released by the work master, usually then far from the city where he committed his crime or was apprehended. On the other hand, it is suspected that work masters tend to be somewhat reluctant to free the fellows on their chains. They would then, it seems, have to pay a new fee to replace him. It seems certain that more than one fellow has been kept on the chain far longer than his sentence would seem to require. For example, it seems certain that small infractions, invented or discovered, of regulations, or discipline, are utilized by work masters, at least from time to time, to «extend» the sentence, or de-facto servitude, of the worker in question. The hope of being freed, of course, generally keeps the chain "tame." Occasionally perhaps, a fellow is released. This is supposed to encourage docility in the others. These fellows, incidentally, are in effect under "slave discipline" which means, on Gor, that they are as much at the mercy of the work master as if they were his slaves. He may kill them, for example, if he wishes. My master, Tyrrhenius of Argentum, at whose mercy I was, and similarly at the mercy of those whom he had appointed to supervise my work, had dealings with various work masters, prominent among them Ionicus, Ionicus of Cos. The fellow behind me, whom my master" s men had bound, and whom they were doubtless placing on the cart, was destined, I head heard, for the "black chain" of Ionicus. That particular chain, I had heard, was employed in the north, currently digging siege trenches for the Cosians who had invested Torcadino. The fellow whom they had bound, of course, and the others in whose capture I had been implicated, were not, as far as I knew, criminals. My master, Tyrrhenius, spoke of his work as "recruitment." He was «recruiting» for the chains of work masters. To be sure, he must do this work surreptitiously. It would be quite unfortunate for him, I gathered, if he were to be discovered to have been involved in such work. Judges, magistrates, andsuch, would not be likely to look indulgently on these activities. To be sure, he was not taking risks as great as it might seem. For example, he was not directly, personally involved in these things. The fellows captured would not know where they were being held, nor, hooded and chained, from what place they were taken forth later. Also, I supposed, later on, after he had some more use out of me, he would sell me off in some market or another. He could find himself a new lure girl. Indeed, for all I knew, he might be using others of his girls in these same cruel and delusory labors. I did not much fear another sale. I had already been sold a number of times. A girl" s first sale, at least her first public one, as mine was at Market of Semris, when she is exposed on a block naked to buyers, and such, is probably the hardest for her. After that she has some sense of what it is to be vended merchandise. Indeed, I was excited at the thought of being sold again. I wanted to be beautiful, to please men, and to bring the highest price in the market. The chances of my encountering any of the fellows in whose captures I had been implicated, incidentally, were not high. They had, it seemed, all been shipped north of Torcadino. I thought of Tyrrhenius. He was not, truly, as I again thought of it, taking such great risks. Who could prove that he had been involved in these things? My own testimony, even if it were dragged out of me on the rack, would be only that of a slave; his men would presumably not betray him; and he could always claim that his tavern, the basement, and such, had been used without his knowledge. He could feign dismay. He was respected in Argentum. He did not even reside on the premises.

  "Someone is coming!" I called back, softly, to my master" s men. They were placing the bound, gagged fellow in the cart. They would tie him there. Then they would cover him with a tarpaulin.

  "Close?" asked the first of my master" s men.

  I nodded.

  "Delay him," called the fellow, a fierce, projected whisper.

  The approaching fellow was some ten to fifteen yards away, to my left. He wore a short cloak, fastened by a large bronze pin at the right shoulder, high, bootlike sandals, and a broad-rimmed hat. A sack was slung on a stick, the stick resting over his shoulder. He carried, on a strap over his left shoulder, the strap under his cloak, a sword. I supposed that he might be able to use it. The hat, with its broad brim pulled down against the sun, with its attendant shadow, muchly concealed his features. I took him for a traveler. It is a not unusual traveling costume for males on Gor. such a costume, too, it might be mentioned, is often worn for hunting. Head down, I hurried forth, and knelt before him, blocking his way. I put my had down to his feet. This is a suitable deference in a female slave before a free male. I tensed, for I expected, having so blocked his path, to be kicked, or struck. I must then try to seize an ankle, or knee, pleading desperate need. I knew I might risk a thrashing with his stick. But I had been ordered to delay him, and delay him I would, if I could. "A needful slave begs master to take pity upon her," I said. I trembled. But I did not feel the scorn of his foot, thrusting me to the side, toward the central gutter in the street, nor did I feel his hand in my hair, yanking my head up, to lash my face back and forth with what would undoubtedly have been a well-deserved cuffing. He did not even spit upon me, or cry out in anger, or deride me, or even order me from his path. Swiftly I began kissing, and licking, at his feet, performing appropriate obesiances before him, a male. I was puzzled. Then I was afraid. Gorean masters are often kind to needful slaves, acceding to their pleas for sex. Though I was eager to be touched, and Tyrrhenius of Argentum, my master, had, as a matter of policy, kept me in a torment of sexual deprivation. I did not want this fellow, a stranger accosted on the street, to use me. My master" s men were nearby.

  "You kiss and lick as well as ever, perhaps even better, Doreen," he said. "Or is it still «Doreen»? he asked.

  I looked up, startled.

  "I am now Tuka, Master," I said.

  "An excellent name for a slave slut such as you," he said.

  "Thank you, Master," I s
aid.

  "You know me, do you not?" he asked, smiling.

  "Yes, Master," I whispered, frightened.

  "It was because of you," he laughed, "curvy little she-urt, that I lost my post in Brundisium."

  "Forgive me, Master," I said. I feared that he might whip me.

  "I do not blame Hendow for being jealous," he said. "A man might be driven to distraction by a face and curves like yours."

  "Thank you, Master," I whispered.

  "But I taught you something of what it is to be a slave, did I not?" he asked. "Yes, Master," I said. It was very true.

  "You were stolen, weren" t you?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," I said.

  "That is what I heard in Brundisium," he said. "I did not think Hendow would have let you go."

  "Perhaps not, Master," I said. I did not really know. It seemed to me implausible that Hendow could have cared for me. He had used me only once, and then ruthlessly. On Earth weaklings who wish to rid themselves of women sometimes take refuge in the comforting rationalization that they "love them enough to let them go." That position, whatever may be its moral or psychological merits, does not represent a typical Gorean response, at least where slaves are concerned. Most Gorean would regard it as absurd to let a woman go for whom one truly cared. One shows caring by keeping. And, if necessary, by fighting. What woman, I wondered, could not see through such cant? Most women, it seemed to me, would prefer a man who cared enough for her to keep her, one who was willing, even, to fight for her, rather than one who was willing to "let her go."

  "Apparently Tupita was stolen at the same time," he said.

  "Yes, Master," I said. It did not seem to me important to tell him that Tupita had been attempting to escape, using my sales price to purchase passage from Brundisium. "You did not come to Argentum searching for me, did you?" I asked. "Hardly," he laughed.