Captive of Gor (29 page)

northern forests. The men of Skjern seldom ventured as far south, or as much

inland, as Ko-ro-ba, the Towers of the Morning. Haakon, with his tarnsmen, it

seemed, came in peace. They paid for their entry into the city, claiming to need

supplies for ventures in trading. Their weapons, for they were a goodly number

of warriors from a distant state, were surrendered at the great gate, to be

returned to them upon their departure. In Ko-ro-ba the scabbards of Haakon of

Skjern and his men would, by the order of the city, be empty. What was there to

fear of a Haakon of Skjern with an empty scabbard? I could not understand the

uneasiness of Targo, and certain of his men. Haakon had done business with them,

and might wish to do so again. He might not even know we were in Ko-ro-ba.

Besides, rumors had it that he would be remaining in Ko-ro-ba for days following

our departure, and would then be flying northward, returning to Laura.

Furthermore, in Ko-ro-ba Targo had purchased additional girls, and guards, and

his (pg. 199) caravan southeast of Ar would be a substantial one, one surely not

to be endangered by some forty to fifty tarnsmen. Too, there seemed nothing

menacing in the way in which Haakon spent his time in Ko-ro-ba. He seemed truly

to be arranging for supplies, and his men, in their leisure, gambled and drank

in the inns and taverns of the city, spending their time striking up

acquaintances with men here and there, other tarnsmen, mostly men like

themselves, from other cities, now, too, by coincidence within the walls of

Ko-ro-ba. There was nothing to fear from Haakon of Skjern, and his men.

* * *

“Slaves out,” said the guard, turning the key in the heavy lock and swinging

back the barred gate of the cage.

In a few minutes I, pleased, knelt, naked, on the wooden platform in the large

room in the public pens of Ko-ro-ba. This time I needed not be bound hand and

foot, nor held by guards.

I put my head back and the leather worker again reached for my face.

His instrument was rather like a pair of closed, long-handled pliers. He

inserted the tip of this instrument, consisting of a pair of small, hinged rods,

like opposing crescents, into the steel nose ring and then, with his two hands,

pulling outwards on the handles, slowly, carefully, opened the instrument,

spreading the ring. Then, with his fingers, he slipped it free, and dropped it

on the platform.

I ran joyfully from the platform to the wall. I felt my face and laughed. I no

longer wore the hated nose ring! Elinor Brinton was free of the hated nose ring!

“El-in-or,” said Targo.

I knelt immediately.

“You are very beautiful when you are happy,” he said.

I blushed, looking down. “Thank you, Master,” I said.

Ute then came to the wall. She, too, now, was free of her ring.

I wanted Ute to hold me and kiss me. I was so happy.

“Ute,” I said. “I am happy.”

(pg. 200) “Good,” she said, and turned away.

I was hurt. When Inge came to the wall, I looked at her. She was my friend.

“Inge,” I cried, “I am happy!”

But Inge, too, turned away, and went to kneel beside Ute.

I felt alone, terribly alone.

When Lana came to the wall I approached her, timidly. I put out my hand to touch

her. :I want to be your friend,” I said.

“Find out when we are leaving for Ar,” said Lana.

“I might be beaten,” I whispered.

“No,” said Lana. “Targo likes you. He will not beat you.”

“Please, Lana,” I begged.

Lana looked away.

“I will try,” I whispered.

I went to Targo, trembling, and knelt at his feet, my head to the boards of the

floor.

“May a slave speak?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

But I could not from the words, so frightened I was.

“Speak,” he said.

“When,” I asked, in a whisper, terrified, “—when do we leave for Ar, Master?”

There was a silence.

“Curiosity,” he said, “is not becoming in a Kajira.” His voice was not pleasant.

I moaned.

I crossed my wrists beneath me and touched my head to the floor, exposing the

bow of my back. it is the submissive posture of a slave girl who is to be

punished. It is called Kneeling to the Whip. I shook, visibly, at his feet. I

whimpered. I waited for him to call a guard, to bring the lash.

“El-in-or,” said Targo.

I looked up.

“In the morning,” said Targo, “slaves will be fed before dawn. Then, at dawn, we

will leave Ko-ro-ba for Ar.”

“Thank you, Master,” I breathed.

He smiled, releasing me.

(pg. 201) I leaped to my feet and fled back to Lana’s side. “We will leave at

dawn tomorrow,” I told her, excitedly.

“I had thought so,” said Lana.

I reached out to touch Lana’s arm, and she permitted me to do so. “I want to be

your friend,” I said.

“All right,” said Lana.

“I am your friend,” I said.

“Yes,” said Lana.

“And you.” I begged, “you, too, are my friend?”

“Yes,” said Lana, “I am your friend.”

“You are the only friend I have,” I told her. I felt very alone.

“That is true,” said Lana.

How lonely it was, to have only one friend. But I had at least one friend,

someone who liked me, someone to whom I might talk, someone whom I might trust

and in whom I might confide.

“Tonight,” said Lana, “if you are given a pastry, you must give it to me.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because we are friends,” said Lana.

“I do not want to do that,” I said.

“If you wish to be my friend,” said Lana, “you will have to please me.”

I said nothing.

“Very well,” said Lana, looking away.

“Please, Lana,” I whispered.

She did not look at me.

“I will give you the pastry,” I said.

* * *

That night, before our departure, I had great difficulty in getting to sleep.

Ute, Inge and Lana, all, slept soundly. I lay awake in the straw, looking up at

the steel plating above me, dim, metallic, in the flicker of a lantern hung

outside the cage, on a peg fixed into the wall on the opposite side of the

corridor.

Tomorrow we would leave for Ar.

I was not much pleased with the evening feeding. Lana had taken the pastry,

which I had agreed to give her.

(pg. 202) And when I had attempted to steal that of the Lady Rena of Lydius,

unseen by Rena, Ute’s hand had closed on my wrist. Her eyes were very hard. I

released the pastry. And Ute and I returned to our food pans. I had had no

pastry this night! I was angry.

I hated Ute, the smug, ugly, stupid little thing.

And I hated Inge, too, for she was skinny and ugly, and stupid.

And I hated Lana, though she was my friend. I did not think her much of a

friend.

I hoped that I would sell for a higher price than any of them that would show

them!

I got to my knees in the cell and watched my shadow on the back wall, from the

lantern outside. I stretched, and threw my hair up and back, arranging it on my

back. I was beautiful. I wondered what a man would pay to own me. I wondered

what I would bring on the great block of Ar, when I stood there naked for the

buyers, Elinor Brinton, a nude female slave to be auctioned to the highest

bidder.

The thought of Verna, the outlaw girl, passed through my mind. She had captured

me, and sold me for a hundred arrow points!

How humiliating, and insulting!

I was worth gold! Gold!

Perhaps Marlenus, her captor, would choose to put her on the block! Perhaps she

would sell for a hundred arrow points!

But I would bring gold, much gold!

I looked about at the slave flesh in the straw, that of Ute, and Inge, and Lana.

They were slaves. I hated them all. I wanted to be free of them! I wanted to be

free of them! I did not need friends. I was better than all of them! I wanted

only to be rid of them!

I lay there in the straw and recollected the forest north of Laura.

I recalled Verna, and the panther girls, dancing in the circle. I recalled them,

when they could no longer restrain themselves, throwing themselves to the grass,

writhing in their helpless need, even the proud, arrogant Verna!

(pg. 203) They were all weak.

I was hard, and strong. I was Elinor Brinton. I was a slave girl, and a true

slave girl, that I knew, but I was not weak. I was hard, and strong. I would

enslave some man, and exploit him, and make a fool of him. I would conquer.

Elinor Brinton, though only a female, and a slave, would conquer!

Now, satisfied with myself, I began to grow drowsy. For some reason my thoughts

strayed back, to the time when the slaver, Soron of Ar, had passed through the

pens, in the company of Targo.

“Buy me, Master,” I had said to him, as I had had no choice but to do.

“No,” he had said.

I twisted in the straw, angrily. Then I lay still, looking up at the steel

plating of the ceiling.

He had purchased no girls.

That seemed to me strange, but it was not what bothered me, as I lay there.

To me he had simply said, curtly, “No.”

How offended I had been.

With every other girl, as far as I knew, in our cage, and further along the tier

of cages, as far as I could hear, he had either spoken with them, or dismissed

them, or told them to return to their place. It was only, as far as I knew, to

my “Buy me, Master” that he had said simply, “No.”

He had rejected the purchase of all of us, and yet only I, as far as I knew, had

been rejected in precisely that way. I t was only to my “Buy me, Master,” that

he had said, with such crude bluntness, “no.” I did not care that he did not buy

me! Indeed, I did not want him to buy me! So he would not purchase me? What was

that to Elinor Brinton? She was pleased! She did not want to belong to him! But

I recalled that I had seen him looking at me, afterwards. I had tossed my head

and, angrily, insolently, had looked away. When I had looked again, his eyes

were yet upon me, yet appraising me. I had been frightened. I had known myself

helpless, held captive in the cage. I must wait there, behind bars! There had

been no escape for me! Men might (pg. 204) do with me what they pleased. I was

their prisoner. I was theirs, their slave!

But after I was sold, then could I, though slave, conquer!

What could a girl do locked in a cage with other girls, some of them perhaps

almost as beautiful as she?

I was a slave girl.

Very well!

I would make my master suffer, as only a woman can make a man suffer. I would

humble him, and, using his needs, would bring him to his knees before me, to beg

for my pleasures. I would wring from him weakness whatever I might wish to

please my will!

I would conquer!

Men are beasts!

I hated them!

“Buy me, Master,” I had said to Soron, the Slaver of Ar.

“No,” he had said.

I think of all men, at that time, I hated Soron of Ar. How he had appraised me,

as I had stood helpless, naked, behind the bars, on the straw of the slave cage,

his to be seen as he wished; how he had examined me, candidly, objectively,

every inch of me, Elinor Brinton, female, slave merchandise! How I hated him!

How I hated men! How I hated most Soron of Ar!

I fell asleep.

I had a strange dream, turning and moaning in the straw. I dreamed that I had

escaped, and that I was free, running and walking in the high grass of a Gorean

Field. How pleased I was to be free!

And then suddenly I turned and, behind me, some eight or ten feet away,

standing, not speaking, tall in the blue and yellow robes of the slaver, still

partially hooded, the band of leather across his left eye, was Soron of Ar.

I fled.

But then it seemed he was ahead of me. I turned, and ran again, back, and then

to the left, and the right, but (pg. 205) each time, as I thought myself

escaped, I saw his tall figure, standing there, in the grass.

I was naked.

I ran and ran.

And then, once again, I turned.

Again, some eight to ten feet away, not speaking, he stood. We were alone, in

the high grasses of the field.

“Buy me, Master,” I said to him. I did not kneel.

“No,” he said.

“Purchase me!” I begged. “Purchase me!”

“No,” he said.

I now saw, in his hand, coiled, several slender loops of braided leather.

I screamed, and turned and fled.

The leather loop suddenly dropped about me and jerked tight, pinning my arms to

my sides.

I screamed.

“Be silent,” cried Lana, shaking me, in the straw. “Be silent!”

I awakened, crying out. Then I saw Lana, and the straw, and the lantern on its

peg on the other side of the bars, on the wall across the corridor. Ute had

risen to her hands and knees, and Inge was on one elbow. Both were looking at

me. Then they lay down again, sleepily, in the straw.

I reached to Lana. I was terrified. “Lana,” I begged.

“Go to sleep,” said Lana, and she lay down in the straw.

I crawled to Ute. “Ute,” I begged. “Please hold me, Ute.”

“Go to sleep,” said Ute.

“Please, please!” I begged.

Ute gave me a kiss, and put her arm about my shoulder. I pressed my head against

her shoulder.

“Oh, Ute!” I wept.

“It is only a dream,” said Ute. “We will sit up for a time, and then we will go