Blood Brothers of Gor

Chapter 33 MIRA

We heard the rattling and beating, the clanging, from a distance.

Fleer circled the sky.

We then, the grass to our waist, dragging the travois on which Hci lay, and other articles, surmounted a rise, surveying the maize fields below us, the buildings and palasade of the compound beyond them.

The fact that we did not have kaiila had, it seemed, worked to our advantage. Several times in the past few days we had seen solitary Kinyanpi scouts in the sky. Each time we had hidden in the deep grass.

We then, graeful for the slope, drew the travois downward, toward the valley below.

At the edge of the field a crude wooden platform had been erected, some seven or eight feet high, its surface reached by a ladder. Above the platform, on poles, a cloth canopy had been stretched. It was being moved by the wind. Beneath the canopy, one with a string of pans and cups tied together, the other with a wooden spoon and a flat, metal pan, were two Waniyanpi women. One was shouting and gesticultating, shaking the pans and cups; the other was shouting and pounding on the flat, metal pan with the wooden spoon.

The fleer, then, the members of a common flock, as the fleer usually flies, departed. They would probably return at a later time.

One of the women on the platform seized the arm of the other and pointed in our direction. She who had first seen us then put down her string of mans and cups and, hastily, descended from the platform. She began to run toward the lapisade in the distance. The other woman, shading her ees, watched us approach. As we came closer she seemed suddenly to react. She put down her pan and spoon and, like the other, hastily descended from the platform. She, however, unlike the other, began to run towards us.

"Go away," she cried to us, coming towards us, through the grass. "There is danger here!"

I scanned the skies. "Let us get out of the open," I said. "Let us go to the maize, near the platform."

"There is danger here," she said, hurrying then along beside us.

"There is danger here, what?" I asked.

"There is danger here-Masters," she said.

In a few moments we had reached the edge of the maize field, near the platform.

"You may kneel," I told her.

"I may kneel?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said, graefully, and knelt before us.

"What is the danger here?" asked Cuwignaka. "Are there Kinyanpi about, Yellow Knives, soldiers?"

"There are no soldiers nor Yellow Knives," she said. "Kinyanpi occasionally fly past, but fewer now than before. I think they are bringing their serches to a close."

"What, then, is the danger?" asked Cuwignaka.

"You will not be welcome here," she said. "They are turning everyone away."

"This man is wounded, grievously," I said, indicating Hci.

"They are turning everyone away," she said, "even the wounded. They have turned away even women and children."

"This man needs help," I said.

"It does not matter," she said. "I am sorry."

"He may die," I said.

"I am sorry," she said.

"Is this not Garden Eleven, a Waniyanpi compound owned by the Kaiila," demanded Cuwignaka.

"Now we are owned by Yellow Knives," she said. "Soldiers have told us."

"You are still owned by the Kaiila," said Cuwignaka, angrily. "You will provide us with food and shelter."

"We are afraid," she said. "We do not know who owns us."

"Someone is coming," I said.

Approaching, along the side of the maize field, coming from the direction of the palisade and buildings in the distance was a group of Waniyanpi. In their lead was the woman I had met, briefly, at the Kaiila camp, Radish. Near her was the woman who had run to fetch them, she who had earlier had the pans and cups on the platform. Behind Radish came Pumpkin, large and ungainly, as usual, in the drab, rude dress that was the uniform of the Waniyanpi. There were about fifteen persons in the group, both men and women. I recognized Carrot and Cabbage.

"Turnip," cried Radish, angrily, "what are you doing, kneeling before a man? Get on your feet!"

"You do not yet have permission to rise," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said, happily.

"Get up!" said Radish.

"Apparently you did not hear," I said. "The slave has not yet recieved permission to rise."

I folded my arms and regarded the insolent Radish.

Turnip, whose beauty could be conjecutred, even beneath the gray, rude garb of the Waniyanpi, lowered her head, humbly, her long, blond tresses hanging forward. She had once been the Lady Mira, of Venna, an agent of Kurii. Then she had fallen into the hands of red savages. She was now only a slave.

"Go away," said Radish, angrily. "There is no room here for you."

"I would speak with a man," I said. "What man is in charge here?"

Radish reacte as though struck. "I speak for all of us," she said.

"Pumpkin," I asked, "is it you?" Are you leader here?"

"No, no," said Pumpkin, quickly, looking down. "There is no leader here. We are all Sames. We are all the same. There are no leaders. We are all the same. Peace, and light, and tranquillity, and contemtment and goodness, be unto you."

"Sweetness be unto you," said Carrot.

"Sweetness be unto you," said Cabbage.

"You seem to me the natural leader here, Pumpkin," I said.

"No," he said, "no, no."

"You have surrendered your sovereignty?" I asked. "This woman, then, is your leader?"

"There is no leader," mumbled Pumpkin, not meeting my eyes. "We are all Sames. We are all the same."

"You, then," I asked, viewing Radish, "are the leader."

"Perhaps," she smiled.

"Radish is strong and forceful," said Carrot.

"She is not the leader," Cabbage assured me. "It is only that we do whatever she says."

"Is this true, Pumpkin?" I asked.

"We do whatever Radish tells u," he said, again not meeting my eyes.

"We have a man here," I said, indicating Hci, "who is grievously, sorely, wounded. We need food and shelter."

"Find it elsewhere," said Radish.

"Pumpkin?" I asked.

He did not respond, but put down his head. This hurt me, for I had hoped that in Pumpkin, somewhere, perhaps deeply buried, was a man.

"Carrot?" I asked. "Cabbage?"

"I am sorry," said Carrot.

"It is not just you," said Cabbage. "Yesterday Radish even put two young people out of the compound, a young man and woman. She found them touching one another."

"Terrible!" said one of the Waniyanpi women, though I do not think she believed it.

"Go away!" said Radish, pointing out over the prairie. "Go!"

"No, Tatankasa, Mitakola," said Cuwignaka, "do not kill them!"

Radish drew back. My hand, in anger, had gone to the hilt of my sword.

"They banish even their own people," said Cuwignaka.

"I am a woman," said Radish, uncertainly.

"I thought you were a Same," I said.

"Their blood is not worthy of your sword," said Cuwignaka.

"Kill us if you wish," said Pumpkin.

"We will not resist," said Carrot.

"Resistance is violence, and violence is wrong," said Cabbage.

"Aggresion must be met with love," said Carrot.

"Conquerors have often found that a useful philosphy to encourage in subject peoples," I said. I took my hand from the hilt of my sword.

"We need your aid," I said to Radish.

"You may not have it," she said, emboldened. "Go away."

I looked at the men. "You are vile hypocries," I said.

"No," said Pumpkin, "not really. It is only that we are Waniyanpi."

"We do whatever Radish tells us," said Carrot.

"Yes," said Cabbage.

"You have surrendered your manhood," I said. "You are spineless weaklings."

The men hung their heads.

"Let us go, Tatankasa," said Cuwignaka, "Mitakola."

I looked at Pumpkin. He, of all of them, I had had hopes for.

"Pumpkin," I said.

He lifted his head but then, again, put it down, not meeting my eyes.

"Come along, Mitakola," said Cuwignaka.

"Get up, Turnip," said Radish, angrily. "You shame the Waniyanpi!"

"I have not yet been given permission to rise," said Turnip.

"You are kneeling before a man!" screamed Radish. "Get up!" I wondered what it was in Turnip's deferential attitude, in her postrue of submission, which so inflamed Radish.

"Yes," said Turnip. "I am kneeling before a man!"

"Get up!" screamed Radish.

Turnip turned to me, facing me. "I kneel before you, Master," she said. "I incline my head to you, as a woman, and a slave."

"Get up!" screamed Radish, beside herself with rage.

"I kiss and lick your feet, Master," said Turnip.

There coursed through the women present, other than RAdish, a thrill of horor and pleasure. I heard several of them gasp.

Turnip knelt before me, the palms of her hands on the grass, her head down. I felt her lips and tongue, sweetly and softly, delicately, kissing and caressing my feet.

"You are cast out!" screamed Radish. "You are out of the compound!"

Turnip paid Radish no attention. She lifted her head to me, and smiled.

"Take off the garb of Waniyanpi!" screamed Radish. "You are not worthy of it!"

"You may rise," I told Turnip.

Turnip rose to her feet and, over her head, drew off the dismal, gray dress he had worn.

Underneath the dress she was stark naked. She then stood before us, very straight and very beautiful. The women with the exception of Radish, looked upon her admiringly, thrilled that she was so beautiful. The men averted their eyes, frightened and shamed.

"Exercising the prerogative of any Kaiila warrior, over nay slave in a compound of the Kaiila," said Cuwignaka, clearly and loudly, "I now claim this woman as my personal slave." He then regarded her. "You are now my slave," he said.

"Yes, Master," she said. She knelt down swiftly and inclined her head to him. I was pleased to see that she did this quickly. She now understood that she was no longer a Waniyanpi slave but was under a man's discipline.

"And your use," said Cuwignaka, pointing to me, "is his."

"Yes, Master," she said, happily. As a slave myself, of course, I could own nothing, not even the collar I wore. On the other hand I could certainly have the use of a slave, who would then be to me as my own lsave, in all things.

"It will be up to him, of course," said Cuwignaka, "as to whether or not he chooses to accept your use."

"Accept my use, Master," she begged. "Please."

"What if I do not accept her use?" I asked Cuwignaka.

"Then we will leave her behind, cast out of the Waniyanpi compound to die," said Cuwignaka.

"Please accept my use, Master," she begged.

I looked down upon her.

"I learned long ago, at the paws of a master's kaiila, that I was a slave," she said. "I learned it, too, in receiving the blow of a quirt, of a stong man." This was a blow I had administered to her sometime ago, preparatory to questioning her in the matter of the attacked wagon train and column. "I learned it, too," she said, "naked, in a yoke which had been fastened on me by red savages, when I was marched to the compound. Mostly I have learned it here, in the long hours I have had to think, in the fields and in the compound. No longer am I in doubt as to what I am. I am a slave."

A thrill passed through the Waniyanpi women present, with the exception of Radish.

"Long ago," she said, "when you were free, and I had just been sentenced to a Waniyanpi compound, you refused to carry me off, making me your own slave. Perhaps, then, regarding me as a mere encumbrance, I having been so recently free, and did not take me with you. Perhaps on the other hand, it amused you, as it seemed ot, that I, someone you seemed to regard, somehow, as a foe of some sort, of lovely enemy, was to be sent to a Waniyanpi compound, you have now had your wish. I will never forget the horrors of my esceriences there. You may now, if it pleases you, take me from it, as I beg you. Too, now you, too, have fallen slave. You, now, are no more than I. Perhaps a salve, then, may see fit to accede to the pleas of another slave, rather than dismiss her petition as causally, as thoughtlessly, as cruelly, as might a free man. Also, you being a slave, too, perhaps you have been denied the use of women or deprived of their caresses, or perhaps, not being free, you have not been permitted to use them with the same liberal audacity as a free man, or as frequently as you might desire. If that is so, I might be of somewhat greater intrest to you now than I was before. Lastly I would no longer be an encumbrance to you for I am, obviously, no longer a free woman. No longer am I an inconvenience and a bother, something to be concerned about and watched out for. Now I am only a property that begs to love and serve you."

"You seem a different woman than before," I said.

"I now realize that I am a slave, Master," she said.

"If I accept your use," I said, "you must understand that I do so-unconditionally."

"No strong man accepts a woman on any other terms," she said. "I would not have it any other way."

"Do you understand what it is to be a man's total slave?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Speak," I said.

"The slave is totally subject to the master in all ways, and in all things. She is his to do with as he pleases. She depends on him for her food and the merest scrap of her clothing, if any. She is subject, completely, to his discipline, to his abuse and his whip. She is owned, like a sandal or saddle. She may be slain even on a whim, if her master wishes."

"Are these, other such conditions acceptable to you?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"I accept your use," I said.

"Thank you, Master!" she cried. She seized me about the legs and kissed me. I felt her tears through my tunic.

"Stand," I said.

Joyfully she stood.

"Do you think your lot with me will be easy, Slave?" I asked.

"No, Master," she said, happily.

I went to the travois on which Hci lay. On it, too, were various articles and supplies. I cut a length from a narrow, raided rawhide rope.

"He is going to put her in a collar!" said one of the Waniyanpi women, excitedly, awe in her voice.

"Yes," said another, breathlessly.

"Come away!" said Radish to the women and men. But the women would not budge. The men too, their eyes cast down, save for furtive glances, seemed loath to leave.

I took the narrow rope, then, and looped it about her neck, three times. I then knotted it and ran my finger about, under the loops, making sure that they were unslippable and snug, but not in the least uncomfortable. The point of the collar is to mark the woman as a slave and, in many cases, by means of devices such as particular kind of knot, a tag, and engraving on metal, or a plate attached to it, to identify the master, not to cause her discomfort. Most of the time she will not even be aware she is wearing it. She may always, of couse, be reminded. And if she is in doubt, she may always touch it. It is on her. I let the two loose ends of the braided, rawhide rope, some seven or eight inches in length, dangle between her breasts. They would also make a convenient, short leash, to pull her about with, if I wished.

I looked at the woman, collared. The three loops were about her neck. The ends dangled down, between her breasts. This collaring arrangement, through not unfamiliar on Gor generally, particularly after he fall of a city, when metal collars may not be available in abundance, or in rural areas, is unusual in the Barrens, where leather, thong-tied beaded collars are almost universal. I di dnot think, accordingly, that there would be much doubt as to who it was, to whome her use belonged.

I tought she would make a lovely slave.

"She is collared!" said one of the women, breathlessly.

"Yes!" said another.

"Come away!" said Radish.

I noted that even the men, furtively, with but one exception, obsered the collaring of the beautiful female. I saw that they, too, wished they had a female to collar. I wondered if the sight of her collaring might arouse their manhood. The one exception was Pumpkin. He kept his eyes cast down, determinedly. He was sweating. His fists were clenched. I saw that he, in the approved fashion of the Waniyanpi, would turn his manhood against himself, using it to frustrate himself, using it to cause himself suffering, denying it its fulfillment, its sovereignty and dominance.

"Take the palce of my friend, in the traces of the travois, Slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

Cuwignaka slipped from the broad, over-the-shoulder strap he had used to exert leverage on the travios and then helped the girl adjust it to her body. She then stood before the travois, very straight and beautiful, the strap on her body. The men and women, with the exeption of Pumpkin and Radish, looked on, thrilled, and in awe and envy. The woman was obviously a slave. She would serve in any way her master chose. She could serve even, obvously, as a draft beast.

"Come away!" said Radish.

The men and women did not move.

"Pumpkin," said Radish. "Pumpkin!"

I saw how she appealed to him, as to a natural leader.

"Yes, Radish," he said.

"Come away," she said. "Come away, Pumpkin!"

"Yes, Radish," he said, and turned meekly about. He took his way from the place. The oters, and then Radish, casting a look of hatred behind her, followed.

I walked over to the girl.

She lifted her head proudly, the strap about her body.

"We have little food," I said. "There will be great danger."

"I am a slave," she said. "Whip me, if I do not please you."

"It is a fitting answer," I said. I regarded her. She was very beautiful.

"It seems to me you took a great risk," I said. "You were very bold, very brave."

"Not really, Master," she said.

"How did you know I would accept your use?" I asked.

"I knew it," she said. "I sensed it."

"When?" I asked.

"As soon as you had me kneel before you," she said.

"Interesting," I said.

"I am a woman," she said. "We can tell such things."

"Interesting," I said. How subtle and deep was the intelligence of women, I thought. How much they know. How much they can sense. How simple and crude, how naive, sometimes seems the intelligence of men compared to the ineligence of women. What deep and wonderful creatures they are. Who can truly understand the emotional depths and needs, eons old, of these flowers of nature and evolution? How natural, then, it is, that hte truly loving man will concern himself not with her distortions and erversions, ultimately barren, but with her emotional and sensous truths, ancient and deep within her, with what might be called her biological and natural fulfillment. Then I shook such thoughts from my mind, for she was simly a slave, and was to be treated as such.

"Oh!" she said.

I cinched the strap closely to her body.

"Master is rough," she said.

"Be silent, Slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said, smiling.

"What, now, is our destination?" I asked Cuwignaka.

"We will go north," he said. "We will then proceed north and west of Coucil Rock, into the land of the Casmu Kaiila. There is a place there I know. It is a camping site favored by Kahintokapa."

"I wonder if he survived," I said.

"Let us hope so," said Cuwignaka.

"What sort of place is this?" I asked.

"It is secluded," said Cuwignaka. "There is wood and water. Game is generally available in the vicinity."

"Do Kaiila, generally, know of this place?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "We are generally familiar with one another's camp sites. This is important if we wish to gather the bands. It can also be important in the winter. Sometimes there is food in one place and not in another."

"Various survivors, then," I said, "might possibly have gone to this place."

"That is not unlikely," said Cuwignaka.

"Let us then be on our way," I said. I picked up the other strap, the rigged harness, the trace, and slipped it over my shoulder, about my body.

"It is we who will pull the travois, is it not?" asked the girl.

"Yes," I said. "We are slaves." Acually I wished Cuwignaka to rest. he was still weak from the dance. Four times in the last five days the wounds on his chest had begun to bleed.

"I am pleased to be harnessed with you, to pull with you, Master," she said.

"Do not slack," I said, "or you will be severly beaten."

"I shall not," she said. She looked behind herslef, uneasily, at Cuwignaka. "Master," she said, "I am bare."

"I am well aware of that, my lovely harness mate," I said.

"Will he whip us?" she asked, in a whisper.

"He will if he wishes," I told her.

Sh swallowed hard.

"When I give the signal," I said, "lean forward and step out with your left foot. Lengthen your stride somewhat, and I shall shorten mine. I shall set the pace. If you cannot keep it, beg for its reduction."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Now," I said, "step forward."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"I love working beside you, pulling with you, Master," she said.

"I, myself," I said, "would prefer for this work to be done by four or five slave girls, naked, and under whips."

"Yes, Master," she said, looking down.

We continued on our way, northward, drawing the travois through the tall grass.

She was doing very well. Either she did not wish to slaken her efforts or feared, mightily, to do so. Such a slackening, of course, would have been instantly detectable to me, her harness mate. She would then, of course, have been whipped, and made to draw more then her share of the weight.

"Master," she said, after a time.

"Yes," I said.

"Am I to be permitted clothing?" she asked.

"Not for a time," I said. "Perhaps, later. We will see. Perhaps by your performances, if they are sufficently superb, you may, in time, be adjudged worthy of a scrap of cloth."

"Yes, Master," she said, happily. "Master," she said, a little later.

"Yes," I said.

"I do not have a name," she said.

"That is true," I said.

We continued to draw the travois through the tall grass.

"Am I to be named?" she asked.

"Perhaps," I said.

"I would like to ahve a name," she said.

"It is probably a good idea for animals like you to be given names," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Perhaps we should call you 'Ahtundan'," I said.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

" 'Something to be spit upon, " I said. "It is a fitting name for a slave, it is not?"

"Yes, Master," she said, her head down.

"Perhaps we could call you 'Cesli' or 'Cespu'," I said.

"What do those names mean?" she asked.

" 'Cesli'," I said, "means dung."

"Oh," she said.

"Either of men or animals," I said.

"I see," she said.

" 'Cespu' means 'wart' or 'scab'," I said.

"I see," she said.

"Let us save those names," said Cuwignaka.

"Oh?" I said.

"Yes," he said.

"Very well," I said. I smiled. In Cuwignaka there was a warrior.

"Is it all right with you," I asked the girl, "if we save those names?"

"Yes, Master," she laughed.

"What about 'Turnip'?" I asked.

"Oh, please, Master, no," she laughed. "That reminds me so of the Waniyanpi."

"Your life has changed considerably, as you will soon learn," I said. "That name, thus, would no longer be appropriate for you."

"I am pleased to hear it," she said.

"Perhaps I should call you 'Wowiyutanye'," I said.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"Temptation," I said.

"Master flatters me," she said, head down, smiling.

"I have a name for you," I said.

"What, Master?" she asked, eagerly, apprehensively.

"It is not a sophisiticated name," I said.

"No, Master," she said, "for I am only a slave."

"It seems t be a simple, suitable name for a slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said. Whatever name it was she would wear it. Animals must wear whatever names are given to them.

"I name you-" I said.

"Yes, Master?" she said.

"I name you 'Mira'," I said.

"Thank you, Master," she said. "Master well knows how to humble a slave! Once that name was worn by a slave who did not know she was a slave. It was then a slave's name but not a slave name. Then the slave was legally imbonded. She leanred then, and soon, that she was truly a slave. Her nature was revealed. Her truth was manifested. The name then again was put on her, this time as a slave name. Now the name is not only a slave's name, as it always was, but is a slave name as well, and recognized and acknowledged publicly, by the slave that she was never anything, even before the technicality of her legal imbondment, but a slave!"

"Do you think you will prove to be a satisfactory slave?" I asked.

"I will try with all my heart, Master," she said.

"Do you want to be a slave?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said, "with all my heart."

"See that you serve well," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Pull, Slave," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.