Authors: John Norman
"I hid by day,” she said. “I stole food, from garbage, at night. But I was seen. Swiftly they took me. What would they do with me?"
"You are a stray,” said Cabot. “Presumably they would remand you to the cattle pens, in order that some good might be gotten out of you, as food."
She shuddered.
"You rescued me,” she said.
"I fear it may do you little good, in the long run,” said Cabot.
"What are you going to do?” she asked.
"We are going back to the Pleasure Cylinder,” said Cabot. “I have some business with Peisistratus."
"I cannot go back!” she said.
"Stand,” he said. “Face away from me. Put your head down. Cross your wrists behind your back."
"You cannot bind me,” she protested. “You are from Earth!"
"Do you dally in obedience?” he inquired.
Swiftly she rose, turned about, lowered her head, and put her hands behind her, wrists crossed.
"You are going to bind me?"
"Yes."
"But I am from Earth!"
"No longer,” he said.
She must stand so, for a time, waiting, for he removed the strings of rubies from his pouch, and freed the rubies from their cords, and deposited them in his pouch, and then, with one of the cords, not returned to the pouch, he fastened her wrists behind her.
"Where are the coins won from Peisistratus?” he asked.
"He took them,” she said.
"Turn about,” he said, “and precede me."
He then gave her a thrust, to hurry her before him. She stumbled, and then caught her balance. “Har-ta!” he said. “Har-ta!"
She hurried forward.
He gave her another thrust.
"This is for show, is it not?” she asked.
"No,” he said.
"You think I am a slave?"
"I know you are a slave,” he said.
She gasped.
He then took her by the hair, and turned her about, to face him. He looked into her eyes, fiercely.
She was clearly frightened.
"You are hurting me,” she said. “Oh!"
"Shall I call you Miss Pym?” he asked.
"You may call me whatever you wish,” she said, frightened.
"Why?” he demanded.
"Because I am a slave,” she whispered.
"Do not forget it."
"No,” she said, frightened.
He wished that the boys and young men she had known on Earth could see her now. They would derive much pleasure at seeing her as she was now, and should be, as a slave.
"You have,” said he, “as of now, a general permission to speak, rescindable at my pleasure, but I suggest you use that permission with discretion."
She was silent.
"Do you understand?” he asked.
His grip tightened.
"Yes!” she said. “Yes!"
"Is that how you address a free man?” he inquired.
"No!” she said. “No—
Master! Master
!"
She shuddered, and then he released her hair, and turned her about, again. Unbidden, she put her head down.
"What?” he asked.
"Nothing,” she said. “Nothing!” She seemed piteous, shaken, open, emotionally revealed.
Cabot steeled himself against pity.
Cabot recognized the moment as important to her, a door opened, a barrier crossed, a secret confessed.
"You said something,” he said. “What was it?"
"It is not important,” she said. “It was nothing, nothing!"
"Perhaps it was an utterance of defiance, of rebellion, or protest?"
"No, Master!” she said.
"Or perhaps the merest breath of a possible reluctance, the smallest suggestion of a mere hesitation in your desperate concern to be prompt and pleasing in all ways?"
"No, no,” she said. “No, Master!"
"Speak!” he snapped.
"Please, no!” she begged.
"Speak!"
"No, please no! Have mercy!"
"Do you wish to be lashed?"
"No, no!” she said.
"Speak,” he said.
"I said,” she whispered, softly, frightened, “I—I love calling men ‘Master'."
"That is because you are a slave,” said Cabot.
"Yes, Master,” she said.
"Too, it is fitting,” said Cabot, “that you call them Master, for they are your masters."
"Yes, Master,” she said.
He saw that she inadvertently trembled with emotion, with pleasure.
Interesting, he thought, how women can find themselves only in bondage.
"Say now,” said Cabot, “'
I am a slave
.’”
He was merciless, you see. But then such are masters.
"
I am a slave
,” she said.
"Louder,” he said, “more clearly."
"
I am a slave
!” she cried.
Again he noted her reaction, one which shook her body, suffusing it with significance and heat, with sudden emotion and pleasure.
"Say now,” he said, “'I am a natural slave, and should be a slave, and am a slave.’”
"
I am a natural slave
,” she said, “
and should be a slave, and am a slave
."
"It is true,” he said.
"Yes, Master,” she said.
"Again,” he snapped—"'I am a slave.’”
"
I am a slave
,” she said.
"It is true."
"Yes, Master."
"You are charged and pleased, and suffused with desire,” said Cabot.
"Yes, Master!” she breathed, pulling a little at her bound wrists.
"In such simple ways,” said Cabot, “is your womanhood spoken."
"Yes, Master,” she whispered.
"Forward!” he said, pushing her ahead of him.
"Yes, Master!” she cried.
"Hurry!” said Cabot. “To the shuttle lock, that appertaining to the Pleasure Cylinder.
"We do not know the codes!"
"Some will know them,” said Cabot. “There must be frequent comings and goings."
"I dare not go there, Master!” she wept. “I was cast out. They may kill me!"
Cabot thrust her rudely forward, again, roughly, without consideration. She was a slave. One may handle a slave so. They expect it. And it is appropriate for them. They are not free women.
"Hurry!” he said, angrily.
"Yes, Master!” she wept.
"Har-ta!” said he. “Har-ta!"
"Yes, Master,” she wept. “Yes, Master!"
Chapter, the Twenty-Sixth:
A SLAVE WILL BE PUT IN A COLLAR, AS IS APPROPRIATE
"Why have you brought this slut back?” asked Peisistratus.
"Kneel, slave,” said Cabot to the girl. “Head down, to the floor."
"You have coins of mine,” said Cabot.
"Fetch the coins,” said Peisistratus to a burly lieutenant.
"You betrayed me,” said Cabot.
"They came for you,” said Peisistratus. “One of the translators of a monitor was set for English. Such translators are rare. I did not realize one was in the cylinder. It was clear in our conversation, to me, and to the monitors, that you would frustrate the will of Agamemnon, a will unwise to frustrate. If we betrayed you, it was simply in not contesting your removal from the cylinder, at the risk of our own destruction."
"I have considered my hands on your throat,” said Cabot.
"You could kill me, swiftly, I have no doubt,” said Peisistratus. “Those of your caste, as those of the Assassins, are skilled in such things. But would you do it here, now, and die under the blows of my men, a moment later? I see no considerable advance in either of our fortunes from such a precipitance."
"It has occurred to me that you may be of use to me,” said Cabot.
"You are aware that you are hunted in the world?"
"I conjectured as much."
"I am of use primarily to myself,” said Peisistratus.
"Hitherto, perhaps,” said Cabot.
"I do not understand."
"You know of the departure of the fleet,” said Cabot.
"Certainly,” said Peisistratus.
"Fewer Kurii are now in the world,” said Cabot.
"Yes."
"I was freed from breeding shackles by Grendel, whom you know,” said Cabot. “With me, freed as well, was she who was once the blonde pet of Arcesilaus, later the pet of Grendel."
"I know her,” said Peisistratus. “Perhaps three tarsks."
"She is with Grendel, who is being sought, for the murder of a guard, and perhaps for freeing prisoners from breeding shackles."
"He is dangerous,” said Peisistratus, “particularly where that little blonde animal is concerned."
"True,” said Cabot. “We saw him in the arena."
"You shared the shackles with the blonde?"
"Briefly."
"And Grendel did not rip out your throat?"
"I fear the thought had crossed his mind,” said Cabot, “but of greater interest to you, and one of the reasons I have sought you out, other than perhaps to kill you, is to inform you that the little blonde animal, as you think of her, and appropriately in my view, overheard him utter seditious remarks, involving a conspiracy of rebellion, implicating himself, Lord Arcesilaus, and you."
Peisistratus turned white. “She must be killed then,” said Peisistratus. “Her tongue could be torn out. She does not know writing, does she?"
"When Grendel is taken,” said Cabot, “as I think must soon occur, if it has not already come about, she will attempt to purchase her life by betraying his remarks."
"We must get to her first, and kill her,” said Peisistratus. “If she can write her hands might be removed."
"There are other ways,” said Cabot, “stumps drawing pictures in sand, even physical responses to cleverly dichotomized questions."
"Then kill her, certainly,” said Peisistratus.
"Grendel will not permit her to be harmed,” said Cabot. “He would have to be killed first."
"Acceptable,” said Peisistratus, grimly.
"And who would do this?"
"You."
"No,” said Cabot.
"We are finished then,” said Peisistratus.
"No,” said Cabot. “We must strike first."
"The world?"
"Certainly."
"You are joking?"
"No."
"Nothing is prepared,” said Peisistratus.
"You have access to the codes to the sport cylinder, and can access the barracks of the killer humans, and the cattle pens."
"The cattle will be useless,” said Peisistratus. “They will not stir from the vicinity of their feeding troughs. And the killer humans, speeched and unspeeched, are wild, uncontrollable, dangerous, vicious, undisciplined. They would kill us as easily as Kurii. The game humans will be unwilling to leave the shelter of their forests."
"Do you have power weapons?"
"Some, on the ships, not many,” said Peisistratus. “But then power weapons are not generally available in the world, either, being kept in arsenals."
"You know their locations?"
"Surely,” said Peisistratus.
"I assume Kurii are reluctant to discharge such weapons in the world,” said Cabot.
"Certainly,” said Peisistratus. “It could be extremely dangerous."
"Good,” said Cabot.
"But they will seek them and utilize them to protect the world,” said Peisistratus.
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"Indisputably,” said Peisistratus.
"If we were between the Kurii and their arsenals,” said Cabot, “it would be difficult for the Kurii to reach those weapons."
"Not as difficult as you surmise,” said Peisistratus, bitterly.
"How is that?” asked Cabot.
"The arsenals,” said Peisistratus, “are not easily accessed, for they are stored at the flat termini of the cylinders, where Kurii may fly."
"Fly?” said Cabot.
"There is little or no gravity there, but an atmosphere, of course, as elsewhere in the cylinder, and thus wing harnesses, of canvas and leather, reinforced by stays, may be used to negotiate those spaces. It is not too unlike the shuttles when beyond their ports."
"I see,” said Cabot, angrily.
"There would be no way for us to keep the Kurii from the arsenals."
"The great bow?"
"Certainly not,” said Peisistratus. “We are not peasants."
"It is one of the most fearsome weapons on Gor,” said Cabot. “How else do you suppose ten thousand small villages from Torvaldsland to Turia, from Thentis to Schendi, have retained the liberty of their Home Stones for centuries?"
"We are not peasants,” said Peisistratus.
"Would that you had less prejudice against the bows of peasants,” said Cabot, “for they can follow and pierce a jard in flight."
"There would be power weapons in the palace, of course,” said Peisistratus. “Those alone might destroy your putative cohorts."
"Have you common weapons, on the ships?” inquired Cabot.
"For use on Gor, of course,” said Peisistratus, “to be used there, that we not attract the attention of Priest-Kings nor seem to violate their laws, crossbows, blades, javelins, spears, and such."
"I see,” said Cabot.
"Thus armed,” said Peisistratus, “we seem to be of little interest to Priest-Kings."
"Interesting,” said Cabot.
"Perhaps they take us for common merchants,” said Peisistratus. “One does not know, and even if they do not do so, and understand our origins and business, they seem content to ignore us then, once we are on Gor and clearly in conformance with their laws."
"Interesting,” said Cabot.
"And, of course,” said Peisistratus, “we make certain that our slave coffles of stripped, neck-chained beauties from Earth, being marched to various markets, are indistinguishable from common Gorean coffles."
"Understood,” said Cabot.
"Too,” said Peisistratus, “there is little difference between a Gorean woman and an Earth woman once they are both on a chain."
"Certainly,” said Cabot.
"I think it is important in these matters, too,” said Peisistratus, “not to treat our selections from Earth otherwise than as common slaves, which they are of course, lest too much curiosity be aroused, and so, thus, we have recourse to the coffle, the wheeled cages, the chaining of their ankles about a central bar in a closed slave wagon, the lash, and such."
"I understand,” said Cabot.
"Many Goreans,” said Peisistratus, “think that Earth is on Gor, in a remote region, inhabited by barbarians."
"I have understood that,” said Cabot.
"There are risks involved, of course,” said Peisistratus, “once we have landed the cargo, our selections, the slaves, and have forgone the use of superior weapons."