Dancer of Gor

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by John Norman


  I looked about myself, and back, at the long chains of men. Some of them were still looking after our coffle. I was frightened. "What chain is this, Master?" I asked.

  "It is the black chain," he said.

  I cried out in fear.

  "What is wrong?" he grinned. I am sure he knew.

  "The black chain," I said, "is at Torcadino. It is at Torcadino!"

  "It was at Torcadino," he said. "It is not there any longer. It was moved. It is here, now, at Venna."

  I reeled in the chains. Things seemed suddenly to move about me, dizzily, and blackness seemed to leap about me. The chain pulling at the collar ring, in front, kept me moving.

  "The siegeworks at Torcadino," he said, "or most of the heavy work there, at any rate, was completed months ago."

  I felt sick, but I must move in the chains.

  "Perhaps you are the slut Tuka," said the guard.

  I looked at him, in misery. He had heard my name. I still bore the name which had been put on me by former master, Tyrrhenius of Argentum. It had been kept on me. I now, frightened, began to suspect why.

  He looked at me.

  "Yes, Master," I said, "I am the slut Tuka."

  "I thought so," he said. "You have many friends on the chain."

  "Protect me," I begged. "Protect me!"

  "Perhaps," he smiled.

  "I will serve you as abjectly as the lowest slut on Gor!" I wept.

  "You must so serve anyway," he laughed. "You are a slave."

  "Yes, Master," I moaned.

  "The guards have heard that you were an excellent lure girl," he said. "They suspect, thusly, that you might be rather good. They are looking forward to trying you out."

  "Yes, Master," I said. I would try to serve with perfection.

  We were now ascending the rise toward the square tent, the overseer's tent. Behind it, and to the left, at the foot of the hill, on the low ground, in a soft area, were the pens for the female work slaves. I could see a corner of them as we climbed the hill.

  "I was told, Master," I said, "that I was sold to my master, Ionicus, for five silver tarsks and a tarsk bit."

  "I have heard that," he said.

  "Is that not a high price to pay for a female work slave?" I asked.

  "It would be quite high, under normal circumstances, for a normal work slave," he said, amused. "But my employer, Ionicus, enjoys a good joke. He is the sort of man who will pay high, to be amused."

  "I see," I whispered.

  "Stop here," he called to the coffle. We had now ascended the rise, and were on a flat, open space, before the tent.

  "This, ladies," said he, "is the tent of the overseer. Much may depend on how you please him."

  Murmurs of fear coursed through the chain.

  "You will be removed from the coffle, and taken before him, one by one," he said. "It is my advice that you open your tunics."

  One by one, beginning with the first girl, we were removed from the coffle. As each of us was removed from the coffle, we briefly crouched down, so that we might reach the upper part of our tunics with our chained hands, the chain joining our hands chained, in turn, to our ankle chain. We then pulled open our tunics. "Let me help you," said the guard. I stood up, before him, the collar gone now from my neck. He jerked the sides of the tunic apart, and then pulled it down, back over my shoulders. "Excellent," he said.

  24

  In the Work Camp

  "Let me carry water to them," she said. Her legs were excellent. She had a long mane of dark hair. It was no wonder she had once served in a tavern. The brief, clinging work tunic well revealed her. Our feet were covered to the ankles in the sand.

  I stepped back. I would not dispute the labor with her. I feared to approach this group of fifty men.

  "No," said the guard, grinning. "Tuka."

  Ten days now I had been with the "black chain of Ionicus." Never before, however, had I been assigned to this crew. Two girls, commonly, are assigned to each crew. The "black chain," as a whole, consisted of several such groups, most of some fifty men. The other chains of Ionicus, the "red chain," the "yellow chain," and so on, were at other locations, not in the neighborhood of Venna. Ionicus was one of the major masters of work chains. He himself resided, I understood, in Telnus, the capital of Cos, where his company had its headquarters. His work chains, however, were politically neutral, understood under merchant law as hirable instruments. They might, accordingly, and sometimes did, work for both sides in given conflicts. The tarsk of gold is the symbol of such men.

  I looked down into the area where the men labored. The men were bagging sand, later to be used in the making of mortar. The Vennans were concerned to strengthen and heighten their walls.

  "Do you hesitate?" asked the guard.

  "No, Master, of course not, Master!" I said.

  "Beware," said the other girl.

  My body, and even my legs, ached from the weight of the water bag, slung on its strap over my shoulder. I was pleased when the contents were depleted, for the weight was less, but then, soon, I must hurry back to the wooden tank, to submerge the bag again and, as the bubbles streamed up to the surface, and broke there, refill it. During the day I was not allowed to drink from the bag, but only from the tank. Usually while one girl returned to the tank, the other would remain with the crew. In this way, there was generally water available, except when the guards wished to punish the men. We might then be made to kneel or sit in the sight of them, the damp, bulging water bags beside us, which we were not permitted to bring to them. Sometimes the guards, during such times of denying the men drink, would help themselves to the water before them, sometimes spitting it out, or pouring it over their heads and bodies. Sometimes they would even empty the bag out before them, into the dirt or sand. About my neck, on a long string, threaded through the handle, hung a metal cup. This metal cup hung a few inches below my navel. It was a joke of masters. My chaining was now different from what it had been when I had been brought into the camp, that I might serve more efficiently. The vertical chain joining my wrist and ankle chains had been removed. Additional links had been interpolated into my wrist chain and my ankle chain. My ankles were now separated by some two feet of chain. There was apparently a rationale to the distance. The guards, at any rate, had taken measurements. The distance, seemingly rather small, on the one hand, and rather large, on the other, was seemingly dictated by a twofold consideration, the preclusion of my capacity to run and the convenience of the guards, particularly when I was supine, a position in which they sometimes placed me. My wrists were separated also by a similar, but somewhat shorter, length of chain. This, in its normal placement, allowed me to use my hands fairly well. This usage was restricted, of course, if the chain were thrown behind the back of my neck, or, more so, if it were looped about my neck. Sometimes, too, I was made to step over the chain, bringing it up behind me, which tends to hold the hands, as they might twist or struggle, back, near my waist or hips. These chaining arrangements were fairly normal with the female work slaves in the "black chain of Ionicus." The only differences between our chainings were usually the numbers of links separating our ankles, this being a function of the length of our legs.

  "You know that he is down there, among the others," said the girl, near me, she, too, chained, standing in the sand, on the top of the small hill, her own water bag on its strap over her shoulder.

  "Yes," I whispered, frightened. It was he I feared most, of all of them.

  "Beware," said the girl, again.

  I nodded, sick.

  "Do not fear," said the guard. "It is unlikely that they will attempt to kill you while they are in their chains. How could they escape? Too, if they do attempt to kill you, I might attempt to intervene. I might even be in time."

  "Yes, Master," I whispered, fearfully. If they did wish to kill me, I knew, however, they could do so quite quickly. The guard, if he remained at the top of the rise, as he apparently intended, of this low, sloping sandy hill, could never reach
them in time. I could be strangled in an instant, the cartilage in my throat broken, ruptured, by strong hands. Similarly, in an instant, my neck, or my back, thrown over their knees, could be broken. I cast a frightened glance at the other girl. She, like myself, had been sold in Samnium. She, however, had been sold directly to an agent of Ionicus, and sent to the black chain, which, at that time, had been at Torcadino. She had come with the chain east to Venna. The agent in Samnium had purchased her, I had been told by another girl, one apparently sold at about the same time, and also purchased by the agent of Ionicus, for seventy copper tarsks. I had brought fifty. The other girl, she who had told me this, by her own account, had brought only forty. It seemed we had all been sold very cheaply. To be sure, we had all been stolen slaves. The recovery period having passed, of course, we were now the legal properties, fully, and in all senses, of our current master, Ionicus of Cos. I was angry that I had sold for twenty copper tarsks less than she. Surely I was as beautiful as she, or perhaps even more so. At any rate, we were both, I was sure, lovely female slaves. Perhaps much depends on the individual man, and how much we interest him? Perhaps I had been sold before the agent had come to the market? Too, my former master, Gordon, had paid fifty copper tarsks for me, and that was undoubtedly a great deal of money for him. Surely that should count for something. He was only an impoverished, itinerant musician. He was not the agent of what was, in effect, an international company, with considerable funds, those of his employer, not his own, to expend! I was sure that I was more beautiful than she, or that at least some men, nay, many men, would regard me as so! Surely I had stood higher in several of the lists at the baths than she!

  I made my way slowly down the hill, through the sand. I went slowly not only because I was afraid but also because I did not want, because of the steepness, or my chains, to fall. It was shortly after the tenth Ahn, the Gorean noon. My shadow was small on the hot, sloping sand in front of me. Here and there a hardy, rough grass, or a patch of weeds, thrust up from the sand.

  I looked back, once, at the guard, and the girl, another work slave, at the top of the tiny hill.

  I approached the work group. It was in a shallow trough among the small hills, working at the sand in the trough. It was, by the hills about it, in its sandy valley, screened from the other groups in the area. At the time I did not give this any thought. My main concern was that the guard could see what was going on.

  I was then on the level, moving through the heavy sand, it deeper, though affording better footing, than the sand on the incline.

  I stopped. The men in the group, fifty of them, half-stripped, sweating, brawny, chained together in ankle coffle, turned to regard me. I had feared muchly, since coming to the chain, that I might have to serve this crew. I had not, however, been assigned to it until last night. I had hoped, on being presented, days ago, to the overseer, that he might find me of interest and keep me in his tent, as a personal slut. But it was not I who was to be chosen. When I had been put before him, kneeling in my chains, my tunic pulled back and down, behind my shoulders, already a girl was at the side of his chair. It was she who had been first in the coffle, she who had once been the spoiled, rich woman. She was on all fours, still chained. Her work tunic, however, had been removed and a narrow rectangle of silk, thrust in a leather thong knotted about her waist, hung down before her. Our eyes met. She looked down. The overseer had already made his choice. To be sure, I, too, once or twice, as had other girls, had worn the rectangle of silk in his tent. He had the call of all of us.

  I would approach the men, head down. I would ask, "Water, Master?" of each. Before those who wished water, I would kneel and pour them a cup. It was appropriate that I knelt, as I was a slave, and they were free, though currently bound, justly or unjustly, in servitude. It is common, incidentally, for a slave to kneel before free men in serving them drink. "Wine, Master?" is a common expression. In it the slave usually offers the master not only drink, say, the wine in the cup, but also, implicitly, the wine of her love, body and beauty.

  I had begged not to serve this chain. My pleas had been ignored, or mocked. If they had no concern for my feelings, had they, too, no concern with their employer's property, that they would subject it to such risk? Then I recalled that Ionicus of Cos had paid more for me, a great deal more, than is common for a female work slave, and that this had to do with his "amusement."

  I looked at the chain, and shuddered. There were fifty men on the chain. Twenty-three of them I had helped to entrap in Argentum.

  I moved slowly through the sand, toward them. Then I stopped and looked wildly back, upward, toward the top of the rise. Could I not be given a gesture of mercy, that I might turn about and flee back, scrambling up that loose sand to the comparative safety of the ridge, to seek shelter within the compass of the guard's whip and sword? The guard, however, made no motion. The girl, standing beside him, seemed very frightened. "Will I never see the last of you?" she had exclaimed, angrily, when I had first been thrust into the pen, then still wearing the chaining in which I had been brought to the camp. I had avoided her as much as possible. Now, however, I could not well do so. We were assigned to the same crew. I think she did not care for the idea any more than I. She was frightened. I think her fear, though, was not primarily for me. Perhaps she most feared what might be the action of one of the men below, an action for which he might well be punished, or even killed. Whereas I had begged not to be assigned to this group, she had, weeks ago, I had learned, begged to serve with it. To be sure she had no more to fear from it than would any other girl. I, on the other hand, had a very great deal to fear from it. The guards had acceded to her pleas. She apparently worked very hard to keep her position with this chain, carrying water, sometimes double bags, frequently and uncomplainingly, and, in the evening, zealously, and desperately, and with subtle and delicious skills, well pleasing the guards. It was whispered about in the pens, seeing the frequency with which she was summoned forth, that she had not always been a common work slave. It was speculated that she had once been a pleasure slave, that she had once been in a tavern, and had even, once, been first girl.

  I was now within a few feet of the first man. I remembered him from Argentum. He had been a metal worker and I had lied, pretending to be of his own caste. He whom I most feared, however, was at the end of the chain. I considered the tools in the grip of these men. One of those shovels could with a single blow cut my head from my body. I knew I could be killed quickly, very quickly. I looked from face to face. I realized then that these men would probably not wish to kill me quickly, not at all. If they wished to kill me, they would presumably prefer to do so slowly. I did not want to serve this crew. For days I had been left free of it. Then, last night, a girl had been transferred from it, and I had been assigned to it. The matter had seemed very sudden. I suspected that the girl had been transferred from it in order to make a place for me on it. I did not know, however, why, only now, this had taken place.

  "Water, Master?" I asked.

  These men were chained together only by an ankle. Their hands were free. They had implements.

  "Yes," he said.

  I knelt down in the sand, before him, my head down. I removed the metal cup on its string from about my neck. My neck was exposed to him. I attended to the filling of the cup, and capped the spout on the bag. I feared I would be struck with the shovel, it cutting down at me. He did not raise it, however. I kissed the cup and, holding it with both hands, my arms extended toward him, my head down between them, proffered it to him. He took it, and drank, and handed the cup back to me. "Thank you, Master," I whispered. I was alive!

  I then went to the next man, and the next. As I moved down the line I grew gradually more grateful, and elated. Each accepted water from me. It seemed I might have been any water girl serving them. It was impossible to describe my relief. It seemed they did not hold it against me, that I had been a lure girl, one of a sort who might have trapped many of them, and, indeed, one who had served in t
he actual entrapment of several of them. Perhaps they understood something of my helplessness, and that I, only a Gorean kajira, had had no choice but to obey. How astonishing it was that they bore me no ill will! How grateful I was to them for their understanding! Then I knelt before he who was last on the chain, he whom I most feared, and yet best knew, he who had been many times kind to me in Brundisium, and whom I had cleverly tricked in Argentum, bringing him to his current condition.

  "Water, Master?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  I poured him the water and in that same fashion in which I had served the others proffered him the cup. He took it, and then, before my eyes, he did not drink, but regarded me, with hatred, and turned the cup, pouring the contents slowly, meaningfully, into the sand. I was terrified. This action on his part seemed some sort of signal to the others. I then found myself in the midst of them, kneeling, trembling, small, in the center of that grim circle.

 

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