Assassin of Gor

19 — THE CURULEAN

The sale of Elizabeth Cardwell, Virginia Kent and Phyllis Robertson, with that of Cernus' other trained barbarians, did not take place on the first night of the Love Feast, though they had been transported to the cages of the Curulean early in the first day.

The Love Feast, incidentally, as I may have mentioned, occupies the full five days of the Fifth Passage Hand, occurring late in summer. It is also a time of great feasting, of races and games.

Cernus, sensing the temper and curiosity of the crowds, had determined to make them wait for his surprise delights, over a hundred of them, whose supposed qualities of beauty and skill, enhanced by the mysterious aura of barbaric origin, had been for months the object of ever more eager rumors and excited speculations. Many were the furious Gorean slave girls who found themselves, early in the Love Feast, forced to ascend the block, while buyers were still waiting, before the largest quantities of gold would be spent, to be sold for prices less than they might otherwise have won for themselves under the conditions of a more normal market.

The evening of the fourth day of the Love Feast is usually taken as its climax from the point of view of slave sales. The fifth day, special races and games are celebrated, regarded by many Goreans as the fitting consummation of the holidays. These games are among the most heavily attended and important of the year. It was on the evening of the fourth day of the Love Feast that Cernus decided to bring Elizabeth Cardwell, Virginia Kent and Phyllis Robertson, with his other barbarian slave girls kidnapped from Earth, before the buyers, not only of Ar but of all the cities of known, civilized Gor.

It was now the fourth day of the Love Feast.

Hooded, a chain on my throat, my wrists in steel behind my back, I stumbled after a tharlarion wagon, to the back of which my throat chain had been bolted, through the streets of Ar. On the wagon there rode some eight guards. Behind me, prodding me upon occasion with the butts of their spears, there walked two others. On the seat of the wagon, which was drawn by a horned tharlarion, sat the driver and the Scribe whom I had known as Caprus, whose real name, as I had been informed, was Philemon of Tyros, an island some hundreds of pasangs west of Port Kar. In the House of Cernus, however, to all, he had been known simply as Caprus, having been introduced to the staff and guards in this fashion by Cernus. He had been a member of the staff of Caprus, the agent of Priest-Kings, until the latter had disappeared, presumably because he had displeased Cernus; Philemon of Tyros had then assumed Caprus' position and duties.

I was barefooted and not used to so walking the stone streets of Ar. Hooded, it was further difficult to pick my way. Particularly was I angered by the occasional large, flat blocks of stone placed across the streets, low enough to permit a wagon to pass over them, and separated by enough distance to allow the passage of a wagon's wheels, but surely a threat to a tethered fool, shackled and hooded, led on a chain behind a wagon. The purpose of the blocks, which are used where the streets are curbed, is to provide stepping stones for crossing the street when there have been heavy rains.

Occasionally, unexpectedly, I would be struck by a stone or a strap and hear a jeer or mocking cry.

It was hot in the slave hood, of several layers of thick leather, stifling, locked under my chin and about my throat; further, this hood, like many, was so constructed as to ensure silence in a prisoner; I could not spit out the thick leather wad that was packed in my mouth nor, because of the straps that held it in place, dislodge it.

Another strap stung my legs, across the calves. "Slave!" I heard.

It had been a girl's voice, perhaps a slave herself.

In Ar, as on Gor generally, a slave, on threat of torture and impalement, must endure whatever abuse a free person cares to inflict on him.

In my position, bound and hooded, anyone might strike me with impunity, even slaves.

Those who jeered me or sported with their straps and stones would have little reason for not thinking me slave. I was barefooted; my only garment was a short woolen, sleeveless tunic; on both the back and front of this tunic was sewn a large block letter, the initial letter of the Gorean expression "Kajirus," which means a male slave.

I fell down several times but the cart did not stop; each time I managed to regain my feet, though sometimes I was dragged for several yards before, nearly strangling, I managed to get up once more. Twice children tripped me; at least twice one of the guards with the butt of his spear did so. They laughed.

I knew that I was on my way to the Curulean.

I supposed that Elizabeth Cardwell would be pleased and excited at this hour.

In my heart I laughed bitterly.

"Slave!" I heard, and felt again the sting of a strap in someone's hand. And then the strap fell twice again. "Slave! Slave!"

When a girl first arrives at the Curulean, there is, on a ticket wired to her collar, a lot number. Elizabeth, Virginia and Phyllis would have the same lot number. The papers of most of the girls, including those of Elizabeth, Virginia and Phyllis, had been transmitted days before to the staff of the Curulean, to be checked for authenticity, and for the updating of certain endorsements. The papers are correlated with the lot number and the girls' fingerprints are taken and checked against those on the papers. Some girls, whom the House had determined late would be sold, arrive at the Curulean with a small leather cylinder tied about their collar, which contains their papers, which girl is then, by the staff of the Curulean, assigned a lot number. Lana, whom Ho-Tu, who held considerable power in the House of Cernus, had decided to sell at the Love Feast, so arrived at the Curulean. Virginia, thanks to Ho-Tu, need not fear that the forward Lana would be likely to soon grace the leash of her Relius. When the members of the staff of the Curulean are satisfied that the girl's papers are in order the ticket with her lot number is stamped approved.

I stumbled again, on one of the large, broad, flat stepping stones, and fell forward and was jerked by the chain tearing at the back of my neck, and struggled again to my feet, hearing through the thick layers of leather in the slave hood the laughter of the guards, as though far away.

The girls, when brought to the Curulean, are braceleted and naked; they have been chained in slave wagons; they are brought to a large, heavy, barred gate in the rear of the large building, through which they are led; the bracelets are, of course, to secure them; the lack of clothing is simply to save the trouble of transporting numerous sets of slave livery back to the House; by the time the girls arrive at the Curulean the slave livery which had been theirs may already have been washed and be drying, soon to be ready for issue to another.

"This is the Curulean," I heard Philemon of Tyros say, the words sounding far off, blurred through the hood.

The wagon stopped, and I felt the heavy, slack chain dragging at my collar.

This was the evening of the fourth day of the Love Feast, the climax of the feast insofar as the sales of slaves was concerned; this was the night Cernus would put his barbarian beauties on the block; tomorrow would be the concluding races and games, wild, dizzying hours in the Stadium of Tarns and that of Blades, bringing the Love Feast to its frenzied conclusion; it was tomorrow, in the Stadium of Blades, that Cernus had informed me I would die.

I heard two girls laugh and I felt my ankles seized and held while small hands thrust me on my back, taking me by surprise and throwing me heavily forward; I struck my shoulder on the back of the cart and the booted foot of a Warrior thrust me from the cart and I fell to my knees on the stones; when I wished to rise a Warrior's hand on my shoulder prevented me. Then another Warrior, with his two hands, thrust my hooded head to the sandal of one of my unseen tormentors; I heard her laugh; then my head was jerked up and thrust down again, to the sandal of another; I heard her laugh.

"You have had your sport," said Philemon. "Be gone, Slaves."

I heard the two girls laugh and dart away.

I was conscious of a crowd about me, not that I was the center of it, but that many men, and some women, were passing about me, probably on the way into the Curulean; there was much bustle, some shouting, much talking and moving. Most were doubtless on their way to the ticket booths, for there is a small charge to enter the Curulean; the fee, though minimal, helps to defray the expenses of the market, most of which are met by commissions on sales transacted on its premises; the fee also tends to some extent, but I suspect not greatly, to discourage attendance at the market by the merely curious or the indigent.

I heard my neck chain being unbolted from the back of the wagon. When it was free I was jerked to my feet and, stumbling in the midst of my guards, was led from the street, around the back of the building, where we entered through a small, private gate. Within, the hood was, to my satisfaction, removed; when the large wad of soured leather was removed from my mouth I threw up against one wall; the guards laughed and struck me; the lights, lamps, though they were feeble, seemed very bright, and ringed with many colors; the hood had been dark and hot and wet, stiffling; now even the close, humid air of the Curulean seemed welcome and cold. My wrists pulled futilely against the circles of steel that confined them; I felt the point of a short sword in my back.

"This way," said Philemon.

We began to walk down a long, slowly bending passageway. I had seen the Curulean from the outside before, but I had never been inside. From the outside it resembles several tiers of disks, surrounded by a circling portico with lofty, fluted columns; the predominant colors are blue and yellow, the traditional colors or the Gorean slaver; around the outside there are large numbers of well-wrought mosaics set in the walls, and on the floor of the circling portico; various scenes, stories and events are depicted, primarily having to do with, as would be expected, the trade of the Slaver, and his merchandise; there are hunting scenes, for example, and those of capture, enslavement, training, the sale, the dance, submission, and so on.

One striking set of mosaics details a slave raid from its initial planning phases through the successful return of the Slavers, on tarnback, to Ar with their stunning victims; another picks up this story from the registration and training of prizes to the block of the Curulean itself; another records the theoretical history of certain of these prizes, fortunate enough to be sold to men of Ar, who find eventual rapture in the arms of their masters, of Ar naturally. There is another set of interesting mosaics, each portraying a chained beauty, identified as being of a given city, kneeling before a Warrior, identified as being of Ar.

The men of Ar, like those of most other Gorean cities, regard themselves as being the best and finest on Gor, and the women of other cities as being worthy of being only the slave girls of such men. I would suppose that the Slavers, many of them sophisticated, rather cosmopolitan men, who come to Ar from many distant cities, must find such mosaics delightful; I am sure they have seen similar representations in their own cities, only there it is perhaps a wench of Ar who kneels, frightened, obedient, at the feet of one of their own warriors.

How seriously the men of Gor understand these representations depends doubtless on the man; but even those who, upon reflection, laugh at them, I have found, do generally regard the women of other cities rather differently than they regard their own, thinking of them almost automatically, particularly if of a hostile city, in terms of slave steel and silk; women on Gor, like gold and weapons, tend to be categorized as spoils. Outside the Curulean also, on sale days, actual slave girls are exhibited, some in suspended plastic cages fastened to the roof of the portico, others in a tier of cages lining the interior wall of the portico; these are not, however, the exposition cages within the Curulean; they are merely, so to speak, advertisements and attractions to lure customers; on the other hand, of course, such displays, along with many others, will be offered for sale.

Now, following Philemon, and surrounded by guards, one of whom held my heavy leash, we passed by the heavy, barred gate in the back of the Curulean, through which deliveries are made; some days ago Elizabeth, and Virginia and Phyllis, would have entered through that gate. We passed tables on one side, the rooms where medical examinations could be held; there were also facilities for washing prisoners; here and there I saw the office of a market official; there were also rooms where I saw silks, cosmetics, vials of perfumes, chains and such.

The sale at the Curulean is carefully planned, and the lots prepared and scheduled with much attention to such matters as variety and the attention of the buyers; for example, two consecutive lots are not likely to wear the same first silks upon ascending the block, yet each girl, given her complexion and hair color, must be attractively silked; similarly, the adornments initially worn must be apt and dissimilar; and further, of course, the merchandise itself must have great variety in its presentation; for example, women of the same general type and hair color seldom follow one another on the block. Cosmetics and their utilization present further problems. The sale of women, like that of any other merchandise, can be a difficult and time-consuming business, calling optimally for good judgment, experience and imagination.

I saw no merchandise in my passage through the rear halls of the Curulean; the girls are generally kept, prior to their sale, in holding cells, lit by energy bulbs, beneath the ground level; soon, however, I was passing by the exposition cages, which are accessible to the public; these cages were now empty; they are used, from the tenth to the fourteenth Ahn of a given day, to display the goods that will be sold that evening; access to the exposition cage area is free to the public prior to the sale, but, after the fourteenth Ahn, the Curulean is cleared and made ready for the evening's work; after that time a citizen must pay to enter the market; the cells themselves, and the corridors on each side surrounding them, are carpeted; the bars are set rather widely; inside the cells there are cushions and silks; on each cell there is a lot number and its date of sale; in the cells the girls are exhibited unclothed; moreover, they must be shown precisely as they are, absolutely without makeup; the only exception to this, interestingly, is that perfume is permitted; even the slave collars are removed, lest they be used to conceal a scar or blemish; the girl is simply washed, brushed and combed, and perfumed, and turned into the cage where, at the prospective bidder's pleasure, she may be examined; she is also expected, upon command, to walk, to assume postures, or otherwise to present the properties of her beauty for discernment and comparison; as Elizabeth had once said to me, it is sometimes difficult to make an assessment from the high tiers; on the block, of course, the girl is under the command of the auctioneer; moreover, on the block, she will customarily be made up; if the bidder does not recall that a particularly dazzling girl on the block was actually rather less dazzling in the exhibition cage, that is the responsibility of the bidder and not of the house; I suspect that, in the excitement of the sale, and in the marvelous presentation on the block of the Slaver's wares, the more careful, more dispassionate, assessments of the exhibition cages are often forgotten.

I supposed that now Elizabeth, and Virginia and Phyllis, would be in the holding cells beneath the ground level, perhaps being fed, some two or three Ahn prior to the sale; later they would be moved, with others, to the tunnel of ready cells, which leads to the block; there they would be adorned, made up and silked; each of these cells gives access to the one on its left and right; as the sale begins the lots move through the cells, one by one, until reaching that which opens at the foot of the block; as the lots move through the cells other lots are summoned from the holding cells and prepared for sale, these lots then moving through the tunnel of ready cells as did those before them.

Here in the area of the exhibition cages there were various citizens of Ar milling about, some meeting their friends, before taking their seats in the tiers; some seats in the tiers, the better ones, are reserved by number, but many are simply available on a first-come-first-served basis; those citizens wandering about, I gathered, had reserved seats.

Philemon, I and the guards emerged from the exposition area to the interior of the sales amphitheater; the entire house was now lit by energy bulbs; later, the block alone would be illuminated; the seats rose in tier after tier, largely circling the block, though a passage lay open behind the block; there were exits from the amphitheater available on several of the levels of tiers; certain specially favored portions of the tiers were boxed, seating areas reserved for important clients of the Curulean, often important Slavers from distant cities; the blue and yellow of the Slavers' was much in evidence in the amphitheater, worked into intricate patterns of fantastic designs, but the background color of the amphitheater was a rich, deep red; the block itself, lying in the pit of the amphitheater, was perhaps seven or eight feet in height, round, and with a diameter of some twenty feet; it was doubtless incredibly heavy, being formed of huge beams, shaped and fitted together with long wooden pegs; it was of simple wood, plain and unvarnished; the broad, heavy stairs, without banisters, leading to its height were shining and concave, polished, shaped and worn smooth by the bare feet of countless wenches who had climbed them; the surface of the block itself was similarly worn smooth and slightly concave; its broad surface had now been sprinkled, as is traditional, with sawdust; it is a Gorean custom that the girl, no matter how richly silked she may be when she ascends the block, must from the very first feel the wood with her feet.

"This way," said Philemon.

Philemon led the way to the box of Cernus, the largest and most impressive in the amphitheater, shielded on both sides and the back from the rest of the boxes and seats by heavy wooden screens; there, on a marble dais on which sat a low, throne-like chair of marble, I was forced to kneel. My throat chain was then locked to a heavy ring set in the side of the chair.

I had seen that many of the seats in the higher tiers, those not reserved, had already been filled with citizens, many of whom were doubtless prospective buyers. This was surprising because the hour was still early; I supposed the crowd this night would be unusually large, even for the fourth night of the Love Feast; none of the citizens had paid much attention to my being brought under guard to the box of Cernus; he was Ubar; it is not unusual on Gor for a powerful victor to force his enemy to witness the sale of his own women, before he is either sold or slain himself.

Philemon looked at me with his narrow ferret eyes and smiled. He pursed his thin, sour mouth.

"Cernus will not arrive until the sales begin," said he, "so we have something of a wait."

I said nothing.

"Hood him," said Philemon.

I struggled but the huge wad of soured leather was thrust again in my mouth and the heavy hood, with its thick layers of leather, drawn over my head and locked.

Hooded, my wrists locked in steel, my throat chained to the chair of my enemy, I knelt for perhaps two Ahn. During this time I was conscious of noise, the movement of men, the filling of the amphitheater. I wondered if Elizabeth, and Virginia and Phyllis, were yet in the ready cells, being prepared; I judged it unlikely, for they would probably be sold late, and would not be prepared until the sales were in progress; the last touches of their makeup might not even be made until minutes before they ascended the block. I felt rage and sorrow, rage at the twisting of events, the brilliance of my enemies, my own failures, and sorrow for Elizabeth, and the other girls; for Elizabeth in particular my heart cried out, for her hopes would be so cruelly dashed; she might not even discover that she had been tricked and used, until she found herself, to her horror, beneath the lash of a master to whom she would be only another slave.

I heard movement about me and sensed that Cernus had now arrived.

In a few moments I heard his voice. "Unhood the fool," said he.

The hood was peeled over my head and I shook my head and hair, gasping for breath.

I saw Cernus in his chair, who smiled down at me. Beside me stood a man with pliers and a hook knife.

"Do not raise your voice during the sale," said Cernus, "or your tongue will be cut out."

I looked down at the block bitterly, not speaking.

Cernus laughed to himself and turned his attention to his right, where stood Philemon, and conversed with the Scribe.

As well as I could, given the wooden screens about the box of Cernus, I examined the interior of the amphitheater. It was now packed with the various caste colors of Gor. The aisles and passageways themselves were jammed with men, and some free women. The individual sounds of their conversations were indistinguishable, blurring into a melded roll of gray thunder, low-keyed, far-off. There was, however, a kind of intensity in the noise, reflecting, I suppose, an eagerness, an expectancy. I'm not sure what the seating capacity of the amphitheater was, theoretically, but I would guess that it would be in the neighborhood of four to six thousand; counting those crowded into the tiers. And standing and sitting in aisles, it might now have held twice that many; the air was hot with bodies; the faces of many of the men were streaked with sweat.

A number of Musicians now filed out from the door at the foot of the block and took their places about it, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Those with string instruments began to tune them; there was a czehar player, the group's leader, some kalika players, some flutists, players of the kaska, small drums, and others. Each of these, in his way, prepared himself for the evening, sketching out melodies or sound patterns, lost with himself.

Even more individuals began to crowd into the amphitheater. Slaves on catwalks opened metal, shuttered vents in the ceiling, which is domed, and in the curved walls; I caught a breath of the cool air; outside I could see stars in the black Gorean sky; I could not see any of her moons.

"It will soon begin," said Cernus, turning in my direction, pleasantly.

I did not deign to speak to him.

He chuckled.

There were vendors in the crowd. They had great difficulty in moving about. Still, given the size of the crowd, they seemed to have little difficulty retailing their goods in short order; they would then disappear down an exit, soon returning with more.

Among the crowd, though it was predominantly male, there were, as I might have mentioned, several women, perhaps one in ten or fifteen; many of these were doubtless rich, and of High Caste; some of them were probably interested in picking up a serving slave; kettle wenches, so to speak, would probably be purchased at one of the minor markets; their bids would be made by a male agent; others of the women were perhaps just curious, interested in observing the beauty of the girls of other cities, wondering if it might match their own; others perhaps merely enjoyed the excitement and color of the sales, possibly thrilling to the sight of their sisters being sold nude into bondage; perhaps some, in the lights and shouts, imagined that it was they themselves who stood brazen and marvelous on the block, exciting men, driving them into frenzies of bidding, bringing higher and higher prices, beautiful women, slaves, sold at auction.

Then the crowd stilled and the Musicians, too, were silent, as the energy lights in the amphitheater dimmed and went out, and another set of energy bulbs, to a pleased shout of the crowd, suddenly lit the block with a blaze of light.

The block, in the light, looked very stark and massive. It was empty.

I wondered how much the girls would be able to see from the block. I could make out, in the reflected light, the faces of those about me, and, as the moments passed, could make out more and more. The girls would be, of course, keenly aware of the crowd, its moods and responses, for this is extremely important in stimulating and tantalizing it, manipulating it to increase the frequency and quality of the bids. Even from the beginning Sura had trained Elizabeth, and Virginia and Phyllis, before men, that they might, from the responses of males, hasten their progress in the arts of the slave girl. Once Elizabeth had told me that Sura had informed them that they would, after a time, be able to see faces from the block. That was apparently important, being able to see the eyes of men, the attitude of their bodies, the movements of their shoulders.

There was a sudden crack of the whip, loud and sharp, and the crowd leaped to its feet, for the sale had begun. A girl, wild, clad only in a brief tunic of gray toweling, as though fleeing, ran to the surface of the block, weeping, circling it, her hands outstretched to the crowd; this was done to the music of the Musicians; she turned this way and that, acting the frantic role of the fleeing slave girl. In a moment or two, behind her, a powerful man in a short blue and yellow tunic, the auctioneer, carrying a slender slave goad, almost a wand, climbed to the surface of the block; seeing him the girl turned to flee, and having nowhere to go, fell to her knees weeping at the center of the block, where the bit of toweling was torn from her and she leaped to her feet laughing, her hands wide to the crowd, to their shouts of amusement and encouragement.

Then the auctioneer briefly and expertly displayed the girl, with deft touches of the wand-like slave goad, and began, simultaneously, to raise the first block calls. "Verbina, she is," called he, "who so fears a man that she would flee him, at the risk of death and torture, White Silk and never before owned, yet certified ready for the chain of a master who would use her as she so richly deserves!" The crowd roared with amusement, enjoying the sport of the auctioneer. The first bid was some four gold pieces, which was good, and suggested that the night might go well. Prices of girls vary considerably with her caste, the supply of her general type and the trends of the market. A girl in the Curulean is seldom sold for less than two gold pieces. This is largely, doubtless, because the Curulean refuses to accept women for sale who are not genuinely attractive. In a rather brief amount of time Verbina was auctioned to a young Warrior for seven gold pieces. An extremely good price, under relatively normal market conditions, for a truly beautiful woman of High Caste tends to be about thirty pieces of gold, though some go as high as forty, and fifty is not unknown; these prices, for women of low caste, may be approximately halved.

The next lot was an interesting one, consisting of two slave girls, clad in the skins of forest panthers, from the northern forests of Gor, and chained together by the throat. They were driven up the steps by a whip slave and forced to kneel at the center of the block.

The northern forests, the haunts of bandits and unusual beasts, far to the north and east of Ko-ro-ba, my city, are magnificent, deep forests, covering hundreds of thousands of square pasangs. Slave girls who escape masters or some free women, who will not accept the matches arranged by their parents, or reject the culture of Gor, occasionally flee to these forests and live together in bands, building shelters, hunting their food, and hating men; there are occasional clashes between these bands of women, who are often skilled archers, and bands of male outlaws inhabiting the same forests; hardy Slavers sometimes go into the forests hunting these girls, but often they do not return; sometimes Slavers simply meet outlaws at the edges of the forests, at designated locations, and buy captured girls from them; interestingly, at other locations, on the eastern edges of the forests, Slavers from Port Kar meet the female groups and purchase men they have captured, who are used as galley slaves; it is not too uncommon that a Slaver Warrior has entered the forest only to be captured by his prey, enslaved, and eventually, when the girls tire of him, be sold, commonly for arrow points and adornments, to Port Kar Slavers, whence he will find himself chained to the oar of a cargo galley.

To the amusement of the crowd it took the whip slave, and two others, to strip the biting, scratching forest beauties. The pair was eventually sold to a collector for ten gold pieces; I trust the security of his Pleasure Gardens is superb, else he might waken to a knife at his throat and the demand for a tarn, and, perhaps eventually, in the rags of a slave, a seat on the bench of a cargo galley.

The third lot was a High Caste girl of Cos who stood before us clad in the complete robes of Concealment, which, piece by piece, were removed from her. She was beautiful, and had been free; she was not trained; she was of the Scribes, and had been picked up by pirates from Port Kar. She did nothing to move the buyers but stood, head down, numb on the block until she was completely revealed. Her movements were wooden. The crowd was not pleased. There was only a two gold piece bid. Then taking the whip from the whip slave the auctioneer stepped to the disconsolate girl; suddenly, without warning, he administered to her the Slaver's caress, and her response was utterly and uncontrollably, wild, helpless. She regarded him with horror. The crowd howled with delight. Suddenly she threw herself, screaming hysterically, on the auctioneer, but he cuffed her to one side and she fell to her knees weeping. She was sold for twenty-five gold pieces.

"The sales go well," said Cernus to me.

Again I refused to respond to him.

Some of the girls, as the sales progressed, I recognized as from the House of Cernus. Lana, I recognized, who was sold for four gold pieces. Lot followed lot, and the bidding, on the whole, tended to increase. Usually the better merchandise is saved for later in the evening, and many of the buyers were waiting. Particularly, I suspected, were they waiting for the more than one hundred barbarians that Cernus had promised them, girls kidnapped from Earth to be Gorean pleasure slaves.

Occasionally, during the evening, the auctioneer had dropped certain disparaging remarks about barbarians, comparing some of the beauties on the block to such. The crowd had growled at these remarks, and Cernus had smiled. I supposed the auctioneer had received his instructions from the House of Cernus. The auctioneer was to appear skeptical, cynical.

I myself, in spite of my predicament, found myself being awestruck, again and again, by the beauty, the performances, the dances of the girls who were, lot by lot, brought before us; how beautiful are women, how fantastic, how tormenting, how superb, how marvelous, how excruciatingly maddening, and beautiful and marvelous they are!

At last, late in the evening, the auctioneer remarked, with something of a sneer, that the first barbarian would be presented, and to remember that he had warned them to expect nothing.

The crowd cried out angrily, "The barbarian! The barbarian!"

I was startled when I saw the girl brought forth. It was perhaps the plainest of all the barbarians who had been brought on the black ships; though I knew the girl to be among the most intelligent, and also, I had heard, among the most responsive. She was an extremely quick-witted, lively girl, though perhaps somewhat plain. Now, however, as I saw her shuffled across the boards, stiff, wrapped in a worn, dark blanket, she looked dull, stupid. Her eyes didn't seem to focus, and her tongue occasionally protruded at the side of her mouth. She scratched herself, and looked about herself, seemingly obtuse and surly.

The crowd was taken aback, for such a wench would scarcely be presented on the meanest block of the smallest market in the city. I myself was startled, for I had seen the girl before and knew her somewhat; this was not her real person; the crowd, of course, would not know that. The auctioneer, as though desperately, tried to do his best for the girl, but soon jeers were forthcoming from the crowd, hissings and shoutings; when her blanket was removed from her, gracefully by the auctioneer, as though removing an expensive wrap from a lady of pearls and sophistication, she slouched so that one might have thought her back had been built in pieces, haphazardly; the crowd cried out in fury.

The auctioneer, apparently losing his temper, responded angrily to some critics in the first tiers, and was himself hooted and decried. The girl seemed to understand nothing. Then, when poked with the slave goad, she called out in a nasal tone, not her own, in painfully, apparently memorized Gorean, "Buy me, Masters." The crowd howled with disgust and laughter. The auctioneer seemed beside himself.

The auctioneer, subtly, or apparently so, then administered the Slaver's caress to her, but she scarcely noted the touch. Then I understood what was going on, perhaps belatedly, for I knew the girl, Red Silk before the black ships, was extremely responsive, and had even been used in the hall of Cernus for the amusement of his Warriors and guards; she had known the caress would be given; she had been ready; she had perhaps, in fact probably, been anesthetized. The crowd hooted and screamed for her to be taken away, while she looked at them in puzzlement, like a bosk cow, scarcely comprehending or concerned. I angrily admired the skill of Cernus. Doubtless, after this, the next lot would be his finest, and the comparison with this girl would be so startling as to cause men to forget the beauties who had preceded her; after this girl, a magnificent actress, the plainest of presentable women would have seemed brilliantly attractive; and a truly beautiful woman or women would be stunning beyond comparison.

"What am I offered for this slave?" called the auctioneer.

There were jeers and cries.

Yet when he persisted, there were some token offers, perhaps by men who wished to obtain a kettle girl for next to nothing; I was not surprised to note that each time a legitimate offer was made, though small, it was topped slightly by a fellow in the robes of the Metal Workers, whom I knew to be a guard in the house of Cernus; at last, this agent of Cernus had purchased her back for the House for only seventeen copper tarn disks. I knew later, perhaps in another city, she would be well presented and would bring a good price.

The auctioneer, as though in the throes of misery, almost threw the poor girl back down the stairs of the block, kicking her bit of dark blanket angrily after her.

He glared at the crowd. "I told you!" he cried. "Barbarians are nothing!"

The auctioneer conferred with a market official, who kept lists of lot numbers and confirmed the bids and final sale with the buyers or their agents at the side of the block. The auctioneer looked dejected when he returned to the center of the block.

"Forgive me, Brothers and Sisters of my City, Glorious Ar," he begged, "for I must bring yet more barbarians before you."

The crowd, or much of it, stormed to its feet. I even heard some angry pounding on the wooden screens surrounding the box of Cernus. But Cernus only smiled. They screamed imprecations on the auctioneer, on the Curulean, even some of the braver ones, anonymous in the pressing throng, on the House of Cernus itself.

"Observe closely," said Cernus to me.

Again I did not deign to respond to the Slaver, now Ubar of Ar.

Suddenly the lights of the amphitheater went out, plunging that great, crowded room into darkness. There were shouts of surprise from the crowd, some screams of startled women. Then, after a moment, the great block, and that alone, was again illuminated with a blaze of light. The crowd shouted its pleasure.

It was as though the sales were beginning again, and now truly for the first time.

The auctioneer sprang to the block and, from the darkness at the foot of the steps, was hurled a chain leash, and then two more. He held them for a moment and then, keeping them taut, stepped back. He met resistance. Below, in the darkness, there came the sudden, startling, savage report of a slave whip, snapped three times.

Then, regally, in black cloaks, with hoods, three women, two girls and their leader, climbed the stairs to the block, backs straight, heads high, their features concealed in the folds of the hood. Each of them had her wrists braceleted before her body, and each slave chain led to the slave bracelets of the one of the girls; the lead girl, probably Elizabeth, was on a somewhat shorter chain than the two behind her, one on each side, doubtless Virginia and Phyllis. Their black cloaks were rather like ponchos with hoods, save that there were slits through which their arms emerged. The length of the cloak, which was full and flowing, fell to their ankles. Their feet, of course, were bare. They stood near the center of the block, their leashes in the hands of the auctioneer.

"These are three barbarians, two White Silk, one Red Silk," called the auctioneer, "all from the House of Cernus, whom it is our hope you will find pleasing."

"Are they trained?" called a voice.

"They are so certified," responded the auctioneer. He then summoned three whip slaves to the block, and each held the chain of one of the girls.

At the auctioneer's command the slaves led the girls about the block, and then brought them again to its shining, shallowly concave center.

"What am I offered?" called the auctioneer.

There was silence.

"Come now, brothers and sisters of Glorious Ar, citizens and gentle buyers of Glorious Ar, and friends of Ar and hers, what am I offered for these three barbarians?"

There was a bid of three gold pieces from the auditorium, probably intended to do little more than initiate the bidding.

"I hear three," called the auctioneer, "do I hear four?" As he said this, he moved to one of the girls and threw back her hood. It was Virginia. Her head was back, and she looked disdainful. She wore the cosmetics of a Pleasure Slave, applied exquisitely. Her hair, glistening, fell to her shoulders. Her lips were red with slave rouge.

"Eight gold pieces!" I heard cry from the crowd.

"What of ten?" asked the auctioneer.

"Ten!" I heard cry.

The auctioneer then threw back the hood of the second girl, Phyllis.

She seemed coldly furious. The crowd gasped. The cosmetics enhanced and heightened the drama of her great natural beauty, but with an insolent and deliberate coarseness that was a gauntlet thrown before the blood of men.

"Twenty gold pieces!" I heard cry. "Twenty-five!" I heard from another area.

Phyllis tossed her head and looked away, over the heads of the crowd, nothing but contempt on her face.

"What of thirty?" called the auctioneer.

"Forty!" I heard cry.

The auctioneer laughed and approached the third girl.

Cernus leaned over the arm of his chair, toward me. "I wonder," he said, "how she will feel when she learns she has been truly sold?"

"Put a sword in my hand," said I, "and face me!"

Cernus laughed and turned his attention again to the block.

As the Auctioneer reached for the hood of the third girl, she turned away and suddenly, though chained by the wrists, darted toward the stairs; the slack in the chain was taken up in her flight and, on the second or third stair down, she was spun about and thrown to the steps, half on them, half on the block. The whip slave who held her chain then hauled her cruelly, on her stomach, and then on her back, to the center of the block. There the whip slave stepped on the chain on the chain fastened to her slave bracelets about six inches from the bracelets, pinning her wrists to the block. The auctioneer, with his foot on her belly, held her in place.

"Shall we have a look at this one?" the auctioneer inquired of the crowd.

There were eager shouts.

I was angry. I knew that, in effect, this was a performance, each detail planned expertly, choreographed and rehearsed in the House of Cernus.

Cernus chuckled.

The crowd shouted eagerly to see the rebellious girl.

The auctioneer thrust his hand beneath the hood and, with his fist in her hair, drew her to her knees before the buyers. Then he brushed back her hood.

The light over the block took the glint of the tiny, fine nose ring in the nose of Elizabeth Cardwell.

The crowd gasped.

How startling, and incredibly beautiful she was!

She seemed fine and savage, as vital and dangerous and beautiful as the she-larl. She was a woman who could well have stood among the most marvelous of Gor.

She wore the cosmetics of the slave girl.

There was silence.

It was a tribute in its way, the honoring by way of awe, this magnificent captive female, to be sold.

The silence was broken by a bid. "One hundred gold pieces," spoken by a Slaver who wore the insignia of Tor, some feet from the box of Cernus.

"A hundred and twenty," said another, soberly, matter of factly, this man, too, a professional Slaver, he wearing on his left shoulder the sign of Tyros.

The three girls then stood rather together, Elizabeth somewhat forward, the other two a bit behind and flanking her; then they were led on their chains again about the block.

The bids increased to a hundred and forty gold pieces. Then the girls were spaced on the block, Elizabeth toward the front and middle, and Virginia and Phyllis on alternate sides. The chains were then removed from their slave bracelets and the three whip slaves retired. The auctioneer then, with his key, removed the left slave bracelet from the wrist of each, permitting it to dangle from the right wrist.

He then removed the black cloak from Virginia, who stood before us in the brief, sleeveless yellow livery, slashed to the belt, of a slave girl.

There were cries of approval.

He then drew the cloak from Phyllis, who was attired as was Virginia.

The crowd cried out with enthusiasm.

He then went to Elizabeth and removed her cloak also.

The crowd roared with pleasure.

Elizabeth had been clad in the brief leather of a Tuchuk wagon girl, simple, rough, sleeveless, the short skirt on the left side slit to the belt, so that the saddle of the kaiila, mount of the Wagon Peoples, would be permitted her.

"Two hundred gold pieces," said a merchant from Cos.

"Two hundred and fifteen," called out a high officer in the cavalry of Ar.

Again the girls were commanded to walk about the block, and they did so, proudly, irritably, as though wishing to express only contempt for what they seemed to regard as the rabble about them. When they had finished, Virginia now stood toward the center, with Phyllis behind her and to her left, and Elizabeth behind her and to her right. The three whip slaves then again climbed to the block. By this time the bids had increased to two hundred and forty. There were some cries of protest, perhaps from less-affluent bidders, that the girls were not of High Caste.

The auctioneer then motioned to the whip slave who stood behind Virginia. He drew her left wrist behind her back and snapped it into the slave bracelet, thus confining both wrists behind her. Then he, pulling at the shoulders of her livery, jerked it down to her waist. This pleased the crowd. There was a bid of two hundred and fifty then for the lot. The auctioneer then signaled the whip slaves and the girls rotated their position, bringing Phyllis to the front of the block. There, she, like Virginia, was similarly secured and revealed. The bids increased to two hundred and seventy-five gold pieces. Then the girls rotated again and this time Elizabeth stood at the center of the block.

"It appears," said the auctioneer, "that this was once a wench of Tuchuks."

The crowd grunted its approval. The Tuchuks, one of the distant Wagon Peoples, tend to be, to those of northern Gor, a people of mystery and intrigue; to those of the southern plains, of course, they tend to be little more than efficient, fierce and dreaded foes.

"Can you guess," asked the auctioneer, "which of the three slaves is Red Silk?"

The crowd roared with amusement.

"Doubtless," called the auctioneer, "her Tuchuk master used her well."

The crowd laughed.

At this point, savagely, Elizabeth spat into the face of the auctioneer.

The crowd screamed with amusement, but the auctioneer did not seem much pleased. Angrily, he motioned back the whip slave, who stood behind the girl, and then he himself threw her hands cruelly behind her back and snapped shut the slave bracelets, thus himself confining her.

"You have pleased ignorant herders," he said. "Now, we shall see if you can please the men of Ar."

So saying, he himself stripped her to the waist before the crowd.

Elizabeth was beautiful. The placement of her wrists, of course, like that of the other girls was not accident. It is done so that there be no impediment to the vision of the buyers.

I found I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss the slave rouge from her mouth. I suppose my response were not much different from those of other men in the crowd.

"Three hundred gold pieces!" called a rich man of Ar.

The crowd shouted its approval of the bid.

"Three hundred and five," said the professional Slaver from Tor.

"Three hundred and ten!" announced the Slaver who wore upon his shoulder the sign of Tyros.

The auctioneer looked into the crowd. "Is not Samos," he asked, "First Slaver of Port Kar with us this evening?"

All eyes turned to one of the boxes near the front of the block.

There, slumped in a marble chair, was an indolent figure, yet indolent as is the satisfied beast of prey. About his left shoulder he wore the knotted ropes of Port Kar; his garment was simple, dark, closely woven; the hood was thrown back revealing a broad, wide head, close-cropped white hair; the face was red from windburn and salt; it was wrinkled and lined, cracked like leather; in his ears there were two small golden rings; in him I sensed power, experience, intelligence, cruelty; I felt in him the presence of the carnivore, at the moment not inclined to hunt, or kill.

"He is," said the man.

This Slaver had not yet made a bid.

"Show me the women," said Samos.

The crowd shouted with pleasure.

The auctioneer bowed low to Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar.

Almost instantly, by the whip slaves, the three barbarian beauties from the House of Cernus were revealed to the buyers of Ar.

The crowd rose to its feet shouting and stamping, drowning out what bids might have been made.

How beautiful were the three women, the slaves.

When the tumult subsided, the voice of Samos was heard again.

"Remove the bracelets."

This was done and the whip slaves retired, taking with them the bracelets which had confined the lovely commodities that now graced the block of Ar.

The crowd shouted and roared, and stamped its feet.

The girls stood in the light, lifting their heads to the crowd, nude and proud on the block, in the wild shouting and stamping and crying out, and knew themselves beautiful and prized. How marvelous and female they seemed, the three slaves, in that moment.

There were perhaps dozens of bids that were shouted forth and lost in the acclaim of the crowd. I managed to hear one bid for four hundred pieces of gold. At last, once again the crowd subsided.

Again the auctioneer looked to the box of Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar.

"Does noble Samos now care to express interest?" inquired the auctioneer.

"Let them perform," said Samos.

Again the auctioneer bowed to Samos. The crowd shouted with delight.

"Shall Pleasure Silks be brought?" inquired the auctioneer.

"No," said Samos.

Again the crowd roared its pleasure.

The Musicians took up their instruments and, together, as three slaves, women who would be owned by men, the girls danced.

In the crowd men cried out with pleasure; I heard even gasps from women, perhaps amazingly, startled that their sex was capable of such beauty; the eyes of some of the women shone with ill-concealed admiration and excitement; I could mark the quickness of their breath in their veils; the eyes of others seemed terrified, and, shrinking, they looked from the block about themselves, suddenly fearing the men with whom they shared the tiers; I heard the tearing of a veil and heard a girl scream and turned to see her lips being raped by the kiss of a Warrior, and then she was yielding to him; the crowd went wild; here and there there was the cry of a woman in the throng who was seized by those near her; one girl tried to flee and was dragged screaming by the ankle to the foot of a tier; another woman, with her own hands, tore away her veil and seized in her hands the head of a man near her, pressing her lips to his, and in a moment, she lay, robes torn, in his arms, weeping, crying with pleasure.

Four dances the girls danced while the crowd screamed and roared, and then, at an instant, their dances ended, they stood suddenly motionless, splendid, animal, magnificent, inciting.

Then they, breathing deeply, stained with sweat, stepped back on the block, and the auctioneer stepped forward.

He did not even call for a bid.

"Five hundred gold pieces!" called the rich man of Ar.

"Five hundred and twenty!" called the Slaver of Tor.

"Five hundred and thirty!" called another man.

"Five hundred and thirty-five!" called the Slaver from Tyros.

The auctioneer turned then to the box of Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar.

"Does noble Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar, jewel and mistress of the sea, not care to express interest in these unworthy wenches? Would they not cheer the heart of a seaman returned from long at sea?"

There was laughter from the crowd.

"Would such not be pleased to be served his paga by such as these? Would he not care to see them dance for him? Would the sight of them, eager, lips lifted, in the shadows of a tavern's alcoves, not soothe his weary eyes aching from the sun and salt of gleaming Thassa?"

The crowd roared with laughter. But Samos did not speak. His eyes revealed no expression.

"Would they not be a fitting gift for the palace of the very Ubar of Port Kar, beautiful jewel and mistress of gleaming Thassa?"

The crowd was silent.

Inwardly I raged, but too I was overcome with horror, for I could not allow even in my imagination that the girls might be sold to one of Port Kar. Never has a slave girl escaped from canaled Port Kar, protected on one side by the interminable, rush-grown delta of the Vosk, on the other by the broad tides of the Tamber Gulf, and beyond it, the vast, blue, gleaming, perilous Thassa. It is said that the chains of a slave girl are heaviest in Port Kar. Perhaps nowhere on Gor would the slavery of a girl be so complete, so abject, as in squalid, malignant Port Kar. I would not admit to myself, even in speculation, that such a fate might befall the helpless prizes now upon the block of Ar, years of miserable, unrelieved servitude, to live at the beck and call of masters among the most cruel of Gor, existing only to give pleasure to one to whom they would be always nothing, only slave.

"I do not choose now to bid," said Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar.

The auctioneer smiled and bowed low.

"Five hundred and forty gold pieces!" cried the rich man of Ar, and the crowd cheered its approval of the bid.

Then there was silence.

"I am offered five hundred and forty gold pieces for these hot-blooded barbarian beauties," called the auctioneer, "only five hundred and forty gold pieces for this exquisite set of animals, in prime condition and superbly trained to tantalize you, to torment you, to drive you wild with pleasure! Do I hear more? Come now, gentle brothers and sisters of Ar, when again will such superb creatures be yours to ensteel for only a paltry sum of golden coin!"

There was laughter from the crowd.

"Five hundred and forty-five," growled the Slaver from Tyros.

The crowd greeted the bid with pleasure, but then it seemed quiet.

The auctioneer looked from face to face, and there were no more bids forthcoming.

He lifted his hand, palm up, open, to the crowd. If he closed his fist it meant he had accepted the bid.

There was silence.

Suddenly, to my horror, Elizabeth strode forth to the front of the block.

She stood there with her hands on her hips, her head back.

"The men of Ar are cheap!" she announced.

Laughter greeted her, and she, too, laughed. "Yes, cheap they are!" she laughed. She turned about and went to Virginia. "Here," said she, tauntingly, "is a slim beauty, lithe and swift, White Silk, intelligent, curious for the touch of a man, who for the right man would be the most abject and servile wench a beast could wish. Imagine her, noble men of Ar, chained to your slave ring! She alone is worth five hundred pieces of gold!"

The crowd roared its approval and the auctioneer dropped his hand and stepped back, perhaps as surprised as any in that room.

"And this wench!" said Elizabeth, striding to Phyllis, "What of her?"

Phyllis looked at her, startled.

"Place your hands behind the back of your head, Slave," ordered Elizabeth, "and turn for the buyers of Ar!"

Startled, Phyllis did precisely as she was told, beautifully.

"Oh, Masters," taunted Elizabeth, "would you not like this one to wear your collar?"

There were shouts of agreement.

"But I warn you," said Elizabeth, "she hates men!"

There was laughter.

Phyllis looked at her in anger.

"Do not lower your arms, Slave," barked Elizabeth.

Phyllis remained as she was, her head back, her back arched. There were tears in her eyes.

"She does not think the man lives who can master her," said Elizabeth. "She does not think the man lives who can make her truly a slave girl!"

There were cries of derision, much laughter.

"She is perhaps right!" cried Elizabeth. "Surely none of Ar could make such a wench cry with pleasure!"

There were some angry shouts from the crowd, but mostly roars of laughter.

"Would it not be worth five hundred gold pieces," asked Elizabeth, "to put your leash on this one and lead her home, to teach her the worth of a man of Ar, if worth they have, and then send her weeping and aching to the kettles of the kitchen until she begs to sleep beneath your slave ring?"

There was a roar of pleasure, of amusement from the crowd.

Phyllis' eyes were filled with tears.

"Lower your arms, Slave," commanded Elizabeth, and Phyllis did so, stepping back, and went to stand beside Virginia.

Then Elizabeth herself strode to the front of the block. "And me!" she laughed. "Which of you would like to put me in steel?"

The crowd roared and stamped, and its men rose to their feet, shouting, pounding their right fists on their left shoulder, in Gorean acclaim.

"I am, I think," cried Elizabeth, laughing, "a not unworthy wench."

There were shouts of agreement.

She pointed a finger at a fine looking fellow, grinning in the audience, a Saddlemaker. "Would you not like to own me?" she asked.

He slapped his knees with his hands and laughed. "That I would!" he cried.

"You!" cried Elizabeth, pointing to a merchant in rich robes in the fifth tier. "Would you not be pleased to have me submit to you?"

"Indeed, Wench," he laughed.

"Is there a man here," asked Elizabeth, "who would not wish to take me in his arms?"

The deafening response, "No!" shouted from thousands of voices shook the amphitheater.

"Who wants me?" she cried.

"I!" came the thousands of responses, making the very walls ring with their pleasure.

"But," wailed Elizabeth, "I am only a miserable girl without a master." She held her wrists together and out to the crowd, as though they had been braceleted. "Who will buy me?" she wailed.

The thunder of bids was deafening.

Elizabeth backed to the other girls and took each by an arm, and together they came to the front of the block.

"Who will buy us?" called Elizabeth.

"Eight hundred gold pieces!" came one cry.

"Eight hundred and fifty," came another. Then we heard nine hundred and fifty bid, and then, incredibly, a thousand and then a bid for the astounding sum of fourteen hundred pieces of gold.

The auctioneer signaled to the Musicians again and once more, to the shouts of the crowd, while he held open his hand, not yet closing it, taking bids, the girls performed the last moments of Ar's dance of the newly collared slave girl, who dances her joy at the thought that she will soon be in the arms of a strong master. When the dance ended the three girls, slaves, knelt in the position of submission, back on their heels, arms extended, heads lowered, wrists crossed as though for binding; Elizabeth knelt facing the crowd and, perpendicular to her, on her left and right knelt Virginia and Phyllis, a vulnerable, submitted flower of slave girls.

The auctioneer waited for some minutes for the acclaim of the crowd to subside. The last bid he had received had been an astounding fifteen hundred pieces of gold. To my knowledge never in the Curulean had a set of three girls brought such a price. The investment of Cernus had been, it seemed, a good one.

The auctioneer called out to the crowd, now silent. "I will close my fist!"

"Do not close your fist," said Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar.

Deferentially the auctioneer regarded the Slaver of squalid, malignant Port Kar, mistress and scourge of gleaming Thassa.

"Does Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar, mistress and jewel of gleaming Thassa, now care to express interest?"

"He does," said Samos, dispassionately.

"What is the Curulean bid?" inquired the auctioneer.

"It is bid," said the man, "by Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar, for the wenches now on the block three thousand pieces of gold."

There was an audible gasp throughout the audience in the swirling amphitheater.

The auctioneer stepped back, astonished. Even the girls lifted their bowed heads, startled, breaking the discipline of the submitted flower. Then, smiling, Elizabeth lowered her head again, and so, too, did Virginia and Phyllis. I felt sick. Doubtless Elizabeth thought Samos the agent of Priest-Kings, sent to purchase them and carry them to safety and freedom.

Cernus was chuckling.

The fist of the auctioneer closed, as though grasping a handful of golden coins. "The women are sold!" he cried. The crowd shouted its pleasure, its delight.

The girls were now on their feet and whip slaves were braceleting their wrists before their bodies and attaching the lead chains to the bracelets, preparing to conduct the purchased merchandise from the block.

"More barbarians!" cried the crowd. "Let us see more barbarians!"

"You shall!" cried the auctioneer. "You shall! We have many sets of barbarians to present for your consideration and pleasure! Do not be disappointed! There are more! There are many more barbarians to be sold, beautiful and splendid lots, superbly trained!"

The crowd trembled with excitement.

Elizabeth and the other two girls had now been secured, braceleted and on their leashes. The ordeal of the sale over Virginia and Phyllis were weeping. Elizabeth, by remarkable contrast, seemed exceedingly well pleased. When they had turned and were being led from the block by the whip slaves who held their leashes, Cernus spoke to two of the guards behind me. "Throw the fool on his feet," said he. "Let her see him!"

I struggled but could not resist the men who hauled me to my feet.

"Behold an enemy of Cernus!" cried Philemon to the block.

The girls turned and then Elizabeth, peering out into the crowd, for the first time, saw me, in the rag of a slave, my wrists bound behind my back in steel, the helpless captive of Cernus, Slaver, Ubar of Ar.

Her eyes were wide. She stood as though stunned. She put her braceleted hands before her mouth. She shook her head disbelievingly. Then, by the chain and bracelets, she was rudely turned about. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes wide with horror. Then, fighting the chain and bracelets, she was dragged stumbling down the steps. It was then she understood herself sold. She cried out wildly, helplessly, a long screaming wail of misery and understanding. I heard the sound of a slave whip below the block, the hysterical, wild sobbing and screaming of a slave girl. Then, as she was dragged away, the sound of the slave whip and of her cries grew more distant, and then I could hear them no more.

"Before she is delivered to Samos," Cernus was saying, "I think I will have her returned to the house and use her. She intrigued me this evening. Since she is Red Silk, Samos will not object."

I said nothing.

"Take him away," said Cernus.

In a moment, manacled, a guard holding each arm, I was being conducted from the amphitheater.

The lights of the amphitheater briefly went out, and then flashed on again.

I heard the crowd cry out.

I heard the auctioneer making his call for the first bid. I knew that behind me, on the block, there would be a new lot for sale, more to please the buyers of Ar.