Vagabonds of Gor

by Norman, John;

  "That may be it," I said to Philomela.

  "What?" she asked.

  "That she is now too valuable," I said.

  She looked at me, puzzled.

  "Excellent, Lady Philomela," I said. "Thank you."

  "I do not understand," she said.

  "You do not need to," I said. "Now, turn about, and put your head down to the grass."

  She obeyed. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

  The dress had come down somewhat, as she had knelt. I managed, however, to thrust it up.

  "What are you going to do?" she asked.

  "Keep your head down," I said.

  "What are you going to do?" she cried.

  "Free women are so naive," I said.

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Perhaps you can guess."

  "No, no, no!" she cried.

  "Yes," I assured her. "Keep your head down."

  "You cannot be serious!" she wept.

  "I am," I assured her.

  "Unhand me!"

  "Do not be foolish."

  "Let me go! Beast, beast!"

  "You are an attractive little she-tarsk," I said. "I can see why they picked you up."

  "I am a free woman! I am a free woman!"

  "We all have our faults," I said. "And that defect on your part will be soon remedied."

  "I will pay you much!" she cried.

  "But you have absolutely nothing," I reminded her.

  "But what of honor, honor!" she cried.

  "Do not try to manipulate me," I said. "You are well aware that honor is not involved in this."

  "Please!" she wept.

  "We do not share a Home Stone," I said. "And you have been honestly and fairly rented. Too, you are a female."

  She groaned.

  "Too," I said, "the Ahn of your rental is nearly up. You would not want me to waste a tarsk bit, would you?"

  "Of course not!" she said, angrily.

  "Good," I said.

  "Oh!" she said. "Oh!"

  "Excellent," I said.

  "Is this how you treat a free woman?" she asked.

  "You are soon to be a slave," I said.

  "But I am now free!" she exclaimed.

  "You may as well grow used to this sort of thing," I said.

  "Oh!" she said.

  "Keep your head down," I said.

  "Oh," she said. "Oh!"

  I would soon return Philomela to her keeper, and she would be attached to the processing chain. Too, I thought it would be well, and now better than later, for another wench, too, to be attached to the processing chain. One writes on their bodies, in grease pencil, various details, what brand is prescribed, its placement, and such. The cost is a tarsk bit.

  "Perhaps it will help," I said, "if you lock your fingers together, behind the back of your neck."

  They were then there. It was almost as though they were held there, by slave bracelets.

  "What are you doing to me?" she said.

  "I would have thought it obvious," I said.

  "No," she said, "I mean what are you doing to me, really. I mean what is happening, what is going on with me, what are you making me feel!"

  "Surely you are not feeling sensations," I said.

  "Yes!" she said.

  "A free woman?" I asked.

  "Yes!" she said.

  "Head down," I warned her.

  She moaned, softly.

  "'Philomela'," I said, "is a lovely name. I think it would make a lovely slave name."

  "Ai!" she exclaimed, suddenly.

  "Perhaps it will be put on you as a slave name," I said. "I think I might do that, were I to buy you."

  "It is too beautiful for a slave name!" she said.

  "Not at all," I said.

  "No?" she asked.

  "No," I assured her.

  "Surely you are aware," I said, "that in a sense it is already the name of a slave."

  She did not see fit to respond to this, at least explicitly, but, in her body, I sensed a sudden, thrilled concord of recognition.

  "Yes."

  "Oh!" she said.

  "Why are you softening, and juicing?" I asked her. "Are you not a free woman?"

  "Ai!" she said.

  "You are nice now, Lady Philomela," I said. "Imagine how much nicer, and how much more pleasant and exciting, and luscious, you will be when you are what you should be, a branded, collared slave."

  "Oh!" she said.

  "Keep your head down," I said.

  "Oh!" she said. "Ohhhh!"

  45

  I am Offered Gold

  "Unhood the slave," said the fellow.

  I thought I might have seen him, briefly, somewhere before.

  It was now late in the evening of the same day on which I had returned Philomela to her keeper.

  "Is it wise then to remain in this camp?" had asked Marcus, he having been apprised of the outcome of my small experiment, that in which Philomela, free woman of Tabor, had assisted.

  "I think it safest, at the moment," I said. "Flight, I am certain, would invite pursuit. The roads and camps are crowded. We do not know who the enemy is." I was hoping that we would be the subject of no further inquiries, that the fellows whom I had encountered earlier would report to their superior, or superiors, that Ina was not in our keeping. I did not count, of course, on their report being unquestioned, or accepted without confirmation. I did not think it wise, under the circumstances, to leave Ina untended in the slave camp, or to dispose of her there, at least immediately. A thousand chains and cages might be examined for her presence. I was hoping that in virtue of what I had had done to her in the slave camp, she might no longer be of interest to her pursuers.

  "Does Ina know that she is sought?" had asked Marcus.

  "No," I had said.

  "She does not know then of the reward on her, the hundred pieces of gold?"

  "No," I had said.

  "Unhood the slave," said the fellow.

  "Why?" I asked. As nearly as I could determine, he was alone.

  "You cannot escape," he said. "I can return with a hundred men."

  "Be off with you," snarled Marcus.

  "Let us be civil, my friend," I cautioned Marcus.

  "I see you are a man of reason," said the stranger.

  "Perhaps you are interested in buying her," I said.

  "Perhaps," he said.

  "She is comely," I said, "but for the most part untrained. She would not be likely, at this point, to draw more than a silver tarsk in the market."

  "I was thinking of something more in the neighborhood of one hundred pieces of gold," he said.

  "Gold?" I asked.

  "Tarn disks of Ar, full weight," he said.

  "Of Ar?"

  "Yes."

  "That is a great sum," I said.

  "Consider it," he said.

  "Do you have it with you now?" I asked.

  "No," he said.

  "But perhaps you would not be interested in her now," I said.

  "Let us see her," he said.

  "You are certain you are not interested only in a free woman?" I asked.

  "Let us see her," he said.

  "Who is willing to pay so much?" I asked.

  "I am," he said.

  "You are an agent," I said. "Whom do you represent?"

  "I can bring the money tomorrow," he said.

  "I will show her to you," I said.

  I rose up from behind our small fire, in our new camp.

  The slave was a few yards to the rear, out of our way. She was backed, kneeling, against a small sapling. Her ankles were chained back about it and her hands, too, back, above her head. Some other slaves, too, were in the vicinity, secured in one fashion or another, as it might please their masters. Some other small camps, too, were about, and fires. The light from one or two of these fires, to one extent or another, illuminated some of the slaves, including the one in which the stranger was interested. He accompanied me to her side.

  "Do you
want me to fetch a lamp?" I said.

  "No," he said.

  He crouched down beside her.

  "Common Kajira brand," he said.

  "Of course," I said.

  There had been no difficulty in making this determination as she was naked, save for her hood. To be sure, we had prepared a garment for her, taking the formerly calflength garment and making it slave short. We had also slit the sides, to the waist.

  "What do you call her?" he asked.

  "'Ina'," I said.

  "Please remove the hood," he said.

  I unbuckled the hood and pulled it away.

  "Octantius!" she cried.

  "With your permission?" he said.

  "Of course," I said.

  He then lashed her head back and forth, several times, striking first with the flat of his hand, then the back, alternating.

  She then looked at us, wildly, first at one, and then the other, in misery, tears running from her eyes, blood about her lips.

  "You do not address free men by their name," I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "You will address all free men as 'Master,'" I said, "and all free women as 'Mistress.'"

  "Yes, Master!" she said.

  "Thank you for administering this lesson to an errant slave," I said.

  "It is nothing," he said.

  "She seems to recognize you," I said.

  "I am Octantius, of Ar," he said. "I was chief officer to her on her barge in the delta."

  "I see," I said. That was probably where I had seen him before, probably in a mere glimpse, when I was, at that time, drawing the sodden rence craft for Plenius and the others. He had probably been on the deck of the barge.

  He looked down at the slave.

  "Your name is 'Ina'?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "That is what your master has named you?" he asked.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "You are a new slave."

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "You look well in a collar," he said.

  "Thank you, Master," she said. The collar she wore was not one of the common, flat, lovely, close-fitting, light-but-inflexible lock collars worn by most female slaves in the north. It was a mere band of iron which had been put about her neck and hammered shut, the two ends evened to match one another. Such collars often serve as interim collars. Sometimes, too, they are used in the houses of slavers, as house collars. Many of the females in the slave camp, for example, wore such collars. Too, of course, they are cheap.

  "You should have been in one long ago," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "All women belong in collars," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "And your brand," he said, "is neatly, excellently, imprinted on you."

  "Thank you, Master," she said.

  "There is no mistaking you now," he said.

  "No, Master," she said.

  "You are well marked," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Ah," he said, brushing back her hair from the sides of her head.

  She suddenly burst into tears of shame.

  "Ah," said he, "how you have degraded and ruined her!"

  "Oh?" I said.

  "Pierced-ear girl," he said to her, derisively.

  She put down her head, sobbing.

  "What you have done to me!" she had cried. "What you have done to me!"

  "It is not really so bad," I had told her.

  But for Ahn she had been inconsolable. Now, in virtue of the observation of the stranger, she had been once again entered into a condition of acute distress, being once again emotionally overwrought at the thought of what had been done to her, the decisively humiliating indignity of it, that her ears had been pierced. This was one of the things I had written on her body, for the attention of the processors, the others being the brand, the brand site and the collar type. Symbols, set on a board, near the initial point of the processing chain, where the girls, back-braceleted, are attached to it, permit the coding of the instructions. As I have mentioned, this data is written on the body, with a grease pencil. It is written on the body in one prominent place, so that the processors will know where to look for it and will not miss it. That place, in accord with a common slavers' convention, having to do with temporary girl markings, lot numbers, and such, is the left breast.

  "You disapprove, of course," I said.

  "No," he said. "I heartily approve."

  She looked up at him, her former subordinate, startled.

  "You may now be put in earrings," he said.

  She looked up at him, with horror.

  "But doubtless your superior, or superiors," I said, "would disapprove."

  "I do not think it would matter to them," he said.

  "Oh," I said.

  "It is fitting," he said, "that the ears of female slaves be thusly prepared, that they may accept the affixing of ornaments."

  "I see," I said.

  "She may now be rehooded," he said.

  "You were the chief officer on her barge?" I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "How large was the crew?" I asked.

  "Nine," said he, "including myself."

  That would be, presumably, two relays of four polesmen. Those not at the poles might double as lookouts, guards and such.

  "You were ambushed by rencers," I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "How many came out of the delta?" I asked.

  "Nine," said he. "They were apparently pleased to let us flee."

  "I see," I said.

  "It was only she whom they wanted," he said.

  "I understand," I said.

  "You were once important, were you not, Ina?" he asked.

  "Perhaps, Master," she said.

  "But you are not important now, are you?" he asked.

  "No, Master," she said.

  She might not be important as a slave, I thought, but if someone were willing to give a hundred pieces of gold for her, she must have value to someone, in some dimension.

  "I think it amused them to let us go," he said. "Certainly they did not attempt to detain us, or pursue us. I think they wanted her to stand on the barge, alone, waiting for the hands of captors on her robes, for their ropes on her body."

  "I see," I said.

  "Resistance was useless," he said. "There were hundreds of them."

  "I understand," I said.

  "There was no point in selling one's life for such a slut, in a doomed cause," he said.

  "I understand," I said.

  "Often I thought of her, in chains, like this," he said, lifting up her chin with his hand.

  "Of the nine in the crew," I said, "how many do you think, besides yourself, could recognize her?"

  "All of us," he said.

  "But surely she was veiled," I said.

  "Oh," he smiled, "she would lower her veil now and then, when men were about, as though inadvertently, as perhaps in adjusting it, or lowering it for a moment to cool her face, such things."

  "I see," I said.

  "She enjoyed showing herself off to us," he said, "tormenting us, exciting us, knowing that she was always safe, always beyond our reach."

  "You were a vain slave even then, were you not you, Ina?" I said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "But you are now a legal slave," he said.

  "Yes, Master," she said.

  "Do you think you are now safe from men," he asked, "or beyond their reach?"

  "No, Master," she said, frightened.

  "I think she may now be rehooded," he said.

  I redrew the hood over the slave's head and rebuckled it.

  "Of the nine fellows who could recognize her," I said, "how many are about now, in the vicinity?"

  "All of them," he said.

  "I see," I said.

  We then returned to the side of the fire.

  "As she is now a slave," I said, "I presume your superi
or, or superiors, are no longer interested in her."

  "On the contrary," he said.

  "But she is a pierced-ear girl," I said.

  "That should make her even more desirable, should it not?" he asked.

  "But as a slave," I said.

  "True," he said.

  "What is the interest in her?" I asked.

  "You would like a hundred pieces of gold, would you not?" he asked.

  "I would not mind having a hundred pieces of gold," I said.

  "Then you need not inquire so deeply into these matters," he said.

  "I am still curious," I said.

  "Perhaps a benefactor wishes to rescue her from bondage," he said.

  "No one who sees her in a collar is going to consider rescuing her from bondage," I said.

  "True," he said.

  "What then is the interest in her?" I asked.

  "I shall return tomorrow with the money," he said.

  "What if I do not choose to sell her?" I asked.

  "I will bring with me a hundred men," he said.

  "That seems a great many," I said.

  "Our resources are considerable."

  "Apparently," I said.

  "Until tomorrow," he said.

  "Would you care to do personal sword contest for her now?" I asked.

  "Do not be difficult," he said. "You can give her to us tomorrow, or we will take her from you tomorrow."

  "I see," I said.

  "In the meantime," he said, "do not attempt to escape. Your camp is under surveillance by several men."

  "I understand," I said.

  He turned to leave.

  "To whom do you intend to deliver her?" I asked.

  "I expect," he said, turning back, "to deliver only her head."

  "I see," I said.

  "That should be interesting," he said, "having the head of the former Lady Ina delivered, with pierced ears."

  "Doubtless," I said.

  He then turned and left.

  "Are you going to sell her to him?" asked Marcus.

  "No," I said.

  He looked at me.

  "You should leave," I said, "before morning."

  "What of you?" he asked.

  "I will stay," I said.

  He regarded me, not speaking.

  "You heard our conversation?" I asked.

  "Of course," he said.

  "Leave," I said.

  "She is only a slave," he said.

  "I wish you well," I said.

  He rose up, and left the camp.