Captive of Gor

8 What Occurred North of Laura

We reached the banks of the Laurius shortly after dawn the following morning.

It was foggy, and cold. I, and the other girls, with the exception of the new girl, freshly branded, hooded and gagged, bound on her side, had crawled between the layers of canvas on which we rode in the wagon. I, and some of the other girls, lifted up the side canvas of the square-canvassed wagon and peeped out, into the early morning fog.

We could smell fish and the river.

Through the fog we could see men moving about, here and there, some low wooden huts. Several of the men must be fishermen, already returning with a first catch, who had hunted the river's surface with torches and tridents at night. Others, with nets, were moving down toward the water. We could see poles of fish hanging to the sides. There were some wagons, too, moving in the direction that ours was. I saw some men, too, carrying burdens, sacks and roped bundles of fagots. In the doorway of one of the small wooden huts I saw a slave girl, in a brief brown tunic, regarding us. Where the tunic parted, at her throat, I caught a glint of a steel collar.

Suddenly the but of a spear struck at the canvas where we were looking and we quickly put down the side wall.

I looked about at the other girls, in the early light. They were awake now. They seemed excited. Laura would be my first Gorean city. Would there be someone here who would send me home? How frustrated I was, chained in the wagon. Even the back flap of the wagon had been tied down. The canvas was damp, and stained from the dew and fog, and an early morning rain. I wanted to cry out and scream my name, and cry for help. I clenched my fists and did not do so. The wagon began to tilt forward then and I knew we were moving down the slope toward the river bank. I could also tell that the wheels were slipping in the mud, and I heard the creak of the heavy brake being thrown forward, backing the shoe against the front left wheel rim. Then, bit by bit, releasing the brake and applying it, the wagon, jolting, slipped and slid forward and downward. Then I heard pebbles beneath the wheels and the wagon was level again.

We sat there for several minutes, and then, eventually, we heard Targo haggling with a barge master for passage across the river.

The wagon then rolled forward onto a wooden pier. The bosk bellowed. The smell of the river and the fish was strong. The air was cold and damp, and fresh. "Slaves out," we heard.

The back flap of the wagon was tied up and the back gate of the wagon swung downward.

The grizzled, one-eyed guard unlocked the ankle bar, lifting it.

"Slaves out," he said.

As we slid to the back of the wagon our ankle rings were removed. Then, naked, unchained, we were herded to the river edge of the wooden pier. I was cold. I saw a sudden movement in the water. Something, with a twist of its great spine, had suddenly darted from the waters under the pier and entered the current of the Laurius. I saw the flash of a triangular, black dorsal fin.

I screamed.

Lana looked out, pointing after it. "A river shark," she cried, excitedly. Several of the girls looked after it, the fin cutting the waters and disappearing in the fog on the surface.

I huddled back from the edge of the pier, between Inge and Ute. Ute put her arms about me.

A broad, low-sided barge began to back toward the pier. It had two large steering oars, manned by bargemen. It was drawn by two gigantic, web-footed river tharlarion. There were the first tharlarion that I had ever seen. They frightened me. They were scaled, vast and long-necked. Yet in the water it seemed, for all their bulk, they moved delicately. One dipped its head under the surface and, moments later, the head emerged, dripping, the eyes blinking, a silverish fish struggling in the small, triangular-toothed jaws. It engorged the fish, and turned its small head, eyes now unblinking, to regard us. They were harnessed to the broad barge. They were controlled by bargemen, with a long whipping stick, who was ensconced in a leather basket, part of the harness, slung between the two animals. He would also shout at them, commands, interspersed with florid Gorean profanity, and, slowly, not undelicately, they responded to his cries. The barge grated against the pier.

The cost of transporting a free person across the Laurius was a silver tarsk. The cost of transporting an animal, however, was only a copper tarn disk. I realized, with a start, that that was what I would cost. Targo was charged twenty one copper tarn disks for myself, the other girls, the new girl, and his four bosk. He had sold four girls before reaching the banks of the Laurius. The bosk were disengaged from the wagons and tied forward on the barge. Also forward on the barge was a slave cage, and two guards, with the sides of their spears, herded us onto the barge, across its planking and into the cage. Behind us I heard one of the bargemen slam the heavy iron door and slide the heavy iron bolt into place. I looked back. He snapped shut a heavy padlock. We were caged. I held the bars, and looked across the river to Laura. Behind me I could hear the two wagons being rolled onto the barge and then, with chains, being fastened in place. They were mounted on large circles of wood, which would rotate. Thus the wagon may be brought forward onto the barge and, when the circle is rotated, be removed the same way. The fog had begun to lift and the surface of the river, broad, slow-moving, glistened here and there in patches. A few dozen yards to my right a fish leaped out of the water and disappeared again, leaving behind him bright, glistening, spreading circles. I heard the cry of two gulls overhead.

The bargemen in the leather basket shouted out and slapped the two tharlarion on the neck with the whipping stick.

There must be someone in Laura who could return me to the United States, or who could put me in touch with those who could!

There were other barges on the river, some moving across the river, others coming toward Laura, others departing. Those departing used only the current. Those approaching were drawn by land tharlarion, plodding on log roads along the edges of the river. The land tharlarion can swim barges across the river, but he is not as efficient as the vast river tharlarion. Both sides of the river are used to approach Laura, though the northern shore is favored. Unharnessed tharlarion, returning to Lydius at the mouth of the Laurius, generally follow the southern shore road, which is not as much used by towing tharlarion as the northern.

On these barges, moving upriver, I could see many crates and boxes, which would contain such goods, rough goods, as metal, and tools and cloth. Moving downstream I could see other barges, moving the goods of the interior downriver, such objects as planking, barrels of fish, barrels of salt, loads of stone, and bales of fur. On some of the barges moving upstream I saw empty slave cages, not unlike the one in which I was secured. I saw only one slave cage on a barge moving downstream. It contained four or five nude male slaves. They seemed dejected, huddled in their cage. Strangely, a broad swath had been shaven lengthwise on their head. Lana saw this and shrieked out, hooting at them across the river. The men did not even look at us, moving slowly across the current toward Laura.

I looked at Ute.

"That means they are men who were taken by women," said Ute. "See," she said, pointing up to the hills and forests north of Laura. "Those are the great forests. No one knows how far they extend to the east, and they go north as far as Torvaldsland. In them there are the forest people, but also many bands of outlaws, some of women and some of men."

"Women?" I asked.

"Some call them forest girls," said Ute. "Other call them the panther girls, for they dress themselves in the teeth and skins of forest panthers, which they slay with their spears and bows."

I looked at her.

"They live in the forest without men," she said, "saving those they enslave, and then sell, when tiring of them. They shave the heads of their male slaves in that fashion to humiliate them. And that, too, is the way they sell them, that all the world may know that they fell slave to females, who then sold them." "Who are these women?" I asked. "Where do they come from?"

"Some were doubtless once slaves," said Ute. "Others were once free women. Perhaps they did not care for matches arranged by their parents. Perhaps they did not care for the ways of their cities with respect to women. Who knows? In many cities a free woman may not even leave her dwelling, without the permission of a male guardian or member of her family." Ute smiled up at me. "In many cities a slave girl is more free to come and go, and be happy, then a free woman."

I looked out through the bars. I could now see, fairly clearly, the wooden buildings of Laura. The water was wet and glistening on the backs of the two tharlarions drawing the barge.

"Do not be sad and miserable, El-in-or," said Ute. "When you wear a collar and have a master, you will be more happy."

I glared at her. "I will never wear a collar and have a master," I hissed at her.

Ute smiled.

"You want a collar and a master," she said.

Poor stupid Ute! I would be free! I would return to Earth! I would be rich again, and powerful! I would hire servants! I would have another Maserati! I restrained myself. "Were you ever happy with a master?" I asked, acidly. "Oh, yes!" said Ute, happily. Her eyes shone.

I looked at her, disgustedly. "What happened?" I asked.

She looked down. "I tried to bend him to my will," she said. "He sold me." I looked away, out through the bars. The fog had now dispelled. The morning sun was bright on the surface of the river.

"In every woman," said Ute, "there is a Free Companion and a slave girl. The Free Companion seeks for her companion and the slave girl seeks her master." "That is absurd," I said.

"Are you not a female?" asked Ute.

"Of course," I said.

"Then" said Ute, "there is a slave girl in you that wants her master." "You are a fool," I told her savagely. "A fool!"

"You are a female," said Ute. "What sort of man could master you?"

"No man could master me!" I told her.

"In your dreams," she asked, "what sort of man is it who touches you, who binds you and carries you away, who takes you to his fortress, who forces you to do his bidding?"

I recalled how, outside the penthouse, hurrying to the garage, a man had looked at me, and had not looked away, and how, fleeing, branded, frightened, helpless, I had felt, for the first time in my life, vulnerably and radically female. I recalled, too, how in the bungalow, when I had examined the mark on my thigh, and the collar that was then at my throat, how I had felt, briefly, helpless, owned, a captive, the property of others. I recalled the brief fantasy which had passed through my mind of myself, in such a band, marked as I was, naked in the arms of a barbarian. I had shuddered, frightened. Never before had I felt such a feeling. I recalled. I had been curious for the touch of a man a€“ perhaps for that of a master? I could not rid my mind of the brief feeling I had felt. It had recurred in my mind, from time to time, particularly at night in the wagon. Once it had made me feel so lonely and restless that I had wept. Two times I had heard other girls crying in the wagon. Once, Ute.

"I do not have such dreams," I told her.

"Oh," said Ute.

"El-in-or is a cold fish," volunteered Lana.

I glared at her, tears in my eyes.

"No," said Ute, "El-in-or is only sleeping."

Lana looked across the cage. "El-in-or wants a master," she said.

"No!" I screamed, weeping. "No! No!"

The girls then, except for Ute, but even including Inge, began to laugh and cry out, mocking me, in a singsong voice, "El-in-or wants a master! El-in-or wants a master!"

"No!" I cried, and turned away, putting my face against the bars.

Ute put her arms about me. "Do not make El-in-or weep," she scolded the other girls.

I hated them, even Ute. They were slaves, slaves!

"Look!" cried Inge, pointing upward.

Far away, through the sky, from the east of Laura, following the forest line, there came a flight of tarnsmen, perhaps forty of them, mounted on the great, fierce, hawklike saddlebirds of Gor, the huge, swift, predatory, ferocious tarns, called Brothers of the Wind. The men seemed small on the backs of the great birds. They carried spears, and were helmeted. Shields hung on the right sides of the saddles.

The girls thrilled, pressed against the bars, crying out and pointing. They were far off, but even from the distance I found myself frightened. I wondered what manner of men such men might be, that they could master such winged monsters. I was terrified. I shrank back in the cage.

Targo came forward on the barge, and, shielding his eyes against the early morning sun, looked upward. He spoke to the one-eyed guard, who stood behind him. "It is Haakon of Skjern," he said.

The one-eyed guard nodded.

Targo seemed pleased.

The tarnsmen had now, somewhere behind Laura, brought their great birds to the earth.

"The compound of Haakon is outside of Laura, to the north," said Targo. Then Targo and the one-eyed guard returned toward the stern of the barge, where two of the bargemen handled the great steering oars. There were six in the crew of the barge, the man who directed the two tharlarion, the two helmsmen, the captain, and two other bargemen, who attended to matters on the barge, and handled mooring and casting off. One of the latter had locked the slave cage. We were now better than two thirds of the way across the broad river. We could see stone, and timber and barrels of fish and salt stored on docks on the shore. Behind the docks were long, planked ramps leading up to warehouse. The warehouses seemed constructed of smoothed, heavy timbers, stained and varnished. Most appeared reddish. Almost all had roofs had wooden shingles, painted black. Many were ornamented, particularly above the great double doors, with carvings, and woodwork, painted in many colors. Through the great doors I could see large central areas, and various floors, reached by more ramps. There seemed many goods in the warehouses. I could see men moving about, inside, and on the ramps, and about the docks. Various barges were being loaded and unloaded. Except for villages, Laura was the only civilization in the region. Lydius, the free port at the mouth of the Laurius, was more than two hundred pasangs downtown. The new girl had been Rena of Lydius, of the Builders, one of the five high castes of Gor. She still lay, secured, in the wagon. I expected Targo would keep her hooded and gagged in Laura, for it was possible she might be known there. I smiled to myself. She would not escape Targo. Then I shook the bars with rage. The tharlarion now turned slowly in the broad river, near Laura, and, under the stick, and cries, of their driver, began to back the barge against its pier. The helmsmen at their steering oars, shouting and cursing, brought the barge to its mooring. There was a slight shock as the heavy, wet, rolled hides tied at the back of the barge struck the pier. The two extra crewmen, standing on the deck, threw great looped ropes over heavy iron mooring cleats, fastened in the pier. Then they leaped to the pier and, with smaller ropes, fastened to the same cleats, began to dray the barge close to the pier. There is no rear railing on the barges and the barge deck matches the pier in height. Once the ropes are secured the wagons may be rolled directly onto the pier.

A man came forward and untied the straps leading to the nose rings of the bosk from the bosk ring on the deck. He led them back toward the stern of the barge and onto the pier. The broad circles of wood on which the wagons were mounted were now rotated, so that the wagon tongues faced the pier. The bosk, now, bellowing and snuggling, and skuffing at the wood with their hoofs, were being backed toward the harness. The two extra crewmen were unchaining the wagon. Some men came down to the pier to watch us land. Others stopped, too, for a time, to regard us.

The men wore rough work tunics. They seemed hardly.

There was a strong smell of fish and salt in the air.

There is a little market in simple Laura for the more exquisite goods of Gor. Seldom will one find there Torian rolls of gold wire, interlocking cubes of silver from Tharna, rubies carved into tiny, burning panthers from Schendi, nutmegs and cloves, spikenard and peppers from the lands east of Bazi, the floral brocades, the perfumes of Tyros, the dark wines, the gorgeous diaphanous silks of glorious Ar. Life, even by Gorean standards, is primitive in the region of the Laurius, and northward, to the great forests, and along the coast, upward to Torvaldsland.

Yet I had little doubt that the strong, large-handed men of Laura, sturdy in their work tunics, who stopped to regard us, would not appreciate the body of a slave girl, provided she is vital, and loves, and leaps helplessly to their touch.

"Tal, Kajirae!" cried one of the men, waving.

Ute pressed against the bars, waving back at him.

The men cheered.

"Do not smile at anyone," warned Lana. "It would not be well to be sold in Laura."

"I do not care where I am sold," said Ute.

"You are high on the chain," said Inge to Ute. "Targo will not sell you until he reaches Ar." Then Inge looked at me, frankly. "He might sell you," she told me. "You are an untrained barbarian."

I hated Inge.

But I feared she was right. I suddenly became afraid that I might b sold in this river port to spend the rest of my life as the slave of a fisherman or woodsman, cooking and tending his hut. What a fate for Elinor Brinton! I must not be sold here! I must not!

One of the extra bargemen came and, with his heavy key, unlocked the large padlock that secured the gate of our slave cage. With a creak, he swung open the gate.

Our own guards were behind him. "Slaves out," said one of them. "Single file." We saw that the bosk had now been harnessed.

When we emerged from the cage, one by one, we were given our camisks, and placed in throat coffle, fastened therein with a long length of bonding fiber, the fiber looped about the neck of each, knotted, and then passed on to the next girl. Our hands and feet were free. Where would one run in Laura? Where would one run anywhere?

Barefoot we left the barge and stepped out onto the pier, walking along the left sides of the wagons.

I could see a long wooden ramp leading up from the pier to a long wooden road winding between the crowded warehouses. We, in coffle, followed this road. I liked the smell of Laura, the fresh fields before the forests, even the smell of the river and the wood. We could smell roast tarsk from somewhere. We, and the wagons, passed between wooden sleds, with leather runners, on which there were squared blocks of granite, from the quarries west of Laura; and between bales of sleen fur and panther hides, from the forests beyond. I put out my hand and touched some of the sleen fur as I passed it. It was not unpleasing to my touch. There were men who came to stand along the edge of the road to watch us pass. I gathered that we were good merchandise. I walked very straight, not looking at them. Then one of them, as I passed him, reached out and seized my leg, from the back, behind the knee. I cried out in alarm, leaping away. The men laughed. One of the guards stepped between us, with his spear. "Buy her," he said, not unpleasantly. The man bowed low to the guard in mock apology. The other men laughed, and we continued on our way. I could feel his hand on my leg for several minutes. For some reason I was pleased. No had had reached out to touch Lana!

The smell of roast tarsk became stronger and, to our delight, the wagons turned and rolled into one of the huge warehouses. The floor was smooth. When we were inside the doors were closed. Then, kneeling, delighted, we were fed bread and roast tarsk, and hot bosk milk.

I became aware of Targo standing over me.

"Why did the docksman touch you?" he asked.

I put down my head. "I do not know, Master," I said.

The one-eyed, grizzled guard stood near Tyros. "She now walks better than she did," he said.

"Do you think she might become beautiful?" asked Targo.

That seemed to me a strange question. Surely a girl is either beautiful or not beautiful.

"She might," said the guard. "She has become more beautiful since we have owned her."

This pleased me, but I did not understand it.

"It is hard for a white silk girl to be beautiful," said Targo.

"Yes," said the guard, "but there is a good market for white silkers." I did not understand this. When I looked at Targo again, he said, "Put her six on the chain." I looked down, flushed with pleasure. When I looked up again Targo and the guard were elsewhere. I began to chew my bread and roast tarsk. I glanced at the former five and six girl, now four and five. They were not much pleased. "Barbarian," said the six girl. "Five girl," I said to her.

But Targo did not display this chain in Laura, to my relief. He wanted higher prices.

After we had eaten we continued on our way, climbing the wooden streets, tied together by the neck beside the wagons. Once we passed a paga tavern, and, inside, belled and jeweled, otherwise unclothed. I saw a girl dancing on a square of sand between the tables. She danced slowly, exquisitely, to the music of primitive instruments. I was stunned. Then there was a jerk at my neck, on the binding fiber, and the guard prodded me ahead with the butt of his spear. Never had I seen so sensuous a woman. About noon we arrived at a slave compound north of Laura. There are several such. Targo had rented space in one compound, adjoining others. Our compound shared a common wall of bars with another, that of Haakon of Skjern, whom Targo had traveled north to do business with. The compounds are formed of windowless log dormitories, floored with stone on which straw is spread; the dormitory then opens by one small door, about a yard high, into the barred exercise yard. This yard resembles a large cage. Its walls are bars, and its roof, too. The roof bars are supported at places in the yard by iron stanchions. There had been rain recently in Laura and the yard was muddy, but I found it more pleasant than the stuffy interior of the dormitory. We were not permitted our camisks in the compound, perhaps because of the mud in the yard.

In the compound adjoining ours, crowded, there were some two hundred and fifty to three hundred village girls. Some of these, not too many, did a good deal of wailing, which I did not much care for. I was pleased that the guards, with whips, kept them silent at night. That way we could all get some sleep. They were stripped and slaves, but, each morning, they would still braid one another's long, blond hair. That seemed important to them, and they were permitted to do it, for some reason. Targo's other girls, of whom I was one, all wore their hair long and combed, straight. I was hoping my hair would grow swiftly. Lana had the longest hair of all of us. It fell below the small of her back. I had fantasies of putting my hands in it and shaking her head until she screamed for mercy. Most of the village girls taken by the raiders of Haakon of Skjern, in the villages to the north of the Laurius, and from the coastal villages, upward even to the borders of Torvaldsland. Most did not seem too distressed about their slavery. I gathered that life in the villages must be hard for a young girl. Targo would have his pick of one hundred of these women. He had paid a deposit of fifty golden tarn disks, and on our first morning in the compound, I had seem him pay one hundred and fifty more to the huge, bearded, scowling Haakon of Skjern. I had watched Targo, not hurrying, with his expert eye and quick, delicate hands, examining the women. Sometimes they would try to pull away from him. when they did they were held by two guards. I recalled that he had once similarly examined me, shortly after we had encountered our first caravan. At one point I had cried out and my body had leaped, uncontrollably. He had seemed pleased. "Kajira," he had said. I noted that girls who responded similarly were invariably selected, sometimes over their more beautiful sisters in bondage. I thought, however, that none of them had responded as I had responded. Targo took more than two days to make his choices. When he did make a choice the girl was removed to our compound. They did not mix with us but, with their northern accents, kept to themselves. A full day was spent in the heating of irons and the branding of them. These were not pleasant days, incidentally, for the new girl, Rena of Lydius. She was kept within the dormitory, her wrists behind her back, fastened with slave bracelets, he neck chained to a heavy ring set in the wall. Further, except when she was fed, she was kept in a gag and slave hood. She would sit against the wall, knees drawn up, head down, the leather slave hood, with its gag, drawn over her head and features. I was given the task of feeding her. When I first unhooded her and removed the gag, she had pleaded with me that I help her escape, or tell others of her plight. What a fool she was! I would be beaten for such an act, perhaps even impaled! I told her "Be Silent, Slave!" and rehooded and regagged her. I did not even feed her then, that she might learn her lesson. I ate her portion that morning, and again in the evening. I had two extra portions that day. The next morning when I freed her head she had tears in her eyes but did not try to speak to me. I fed her in silence, thrusting food into her mouth, telling her to eat swiftly, and then giving her a drink from the leather water bag. Then I resecured her. She had been of high caste. I hated her. I would treat her as what she was, a slave.

Beyond the compound of Haakon of Skjern I could see the compound of his tarns, where, hobbled, the great birds beat their wings, threw back their heads and screamed, and tore at the great pieces of bosk thrown before them. Sometimes they tore at their hobbles and struck at their keepers with their pounding, snapping wings, with hurricanes of dust and small stones, could hurl a man from his feet. Those great rending beaks and pressing, ripping talons could tear him in two as easily as the great thighs of bosk on which they fed. Even separated as I was by three walls of bars, that of their compound, that of the far wall of Haakon's compound, and that of our common wall, these birds terrified me. The northern beauties of Haakon, too, I was pleased to see, cowered away from that side of their compound. Sometimes when one of the great birds screamed, several of them would scream, too, and run, huddling away against our bars, or flying into their log dormitory. I do not know why it is that women fear tarns so terribly, but we do. But most men do, too. It is a rare man who will approach a tarn. It is said that the tarn knows who is a tarnsman and who is not, and if one approaches him who is not, he will seize him and rip him to pieces. It is little wonder that few men approach the beasts. I had seem tarn keepers, but, except for Haakon of Skjern, I had seen no tarnsmen. They were wild men, of the caste of warriors, who spent much of their time in the taverns of Laura, fighting and gambling and drinking, while slave girls, excited and with shining eyes, served them and pressed about them, begging to be noticed and ordered to the alcoves. It was no wonder that some men, even warriors, hated and envied the arrogant, regal tarnsmen, one night rich, the next impoverished, always at the elbow of adventure, and war and pleasure, wearing their pride and their manhood in their walk, in the steel at their side and the look in their eyes. But Haakon was a tarnsman, and he frightened me. He was ugly, and he seemed treacherous.

Targo seemed nervous in doing business with him.

We remained six full days in Targo's rented compound outside of Laura. On five of these days, in the morning, I was taken with four other girls into Laura, leashed with them, to bring back supplies. Two guards accompanied us. But, interestingly, at a given building, one guard would separate me from the others and together, the guard and I, we would got into the building, while the others continued on to the market. Returning from the market they would call at the building, at which time I and my guard would go outside. There I would be leashed with the others again, the burdens would be redistributed. I would take up my share, and, carrying my burden as a slave girl, on the head, balancing it with one hand, I and the others, under guard, would return to the compound. The last two times I begged to do so, and was permitted to carry a jar of wine on my head. Ute had taught me to walk without spilling it. I enjoyed the men watching me. Soon I could carry wine as well as any girl, even Ute.

The building where I would wait on these days was the house of a physician. I was taken through a corridor to a special, rough room, where slaves were treated. There my camisk would be removed. On the first day the physician, a quiet man in the green garments of his caste, examined me, thoroughly. The instruments he used, the tests he performed, the samples he required were not unlike those of Earth. Of special interest to me was the fact that this room, primitive though it might be, was lit by what, in Gorean, is called an energy bulb, and invention of the Builders. I could see neither cords nor battery cases. Yet the room was filled with a soft, gentle, white light, which the physician could regulate by rotating the base of the bulb. Further, certain pieces of his instrumentation were clearly far from primitive. For example, there was a small machine with gauges and dials. In this he would place slides, containing drops of blood and urine, flecks of tissue, a strand of hair. With a stylus he would note readings on the machine, and, on the small screen at the top of the machine. I saw, vastly enlarged, what reminded me of an image witnessed under a microscope. He would briefly study this image, and then make further jottings with his stylus. The guard had strictly forbidden me to speak to the physician, other than to answer his questions, which I was to do promptly and accurately, regardless of their nature. Though the physician was not unkind I felt that he treated me as, and regarded me as, an animal. When I was not being examined, he would dismiss me to the side of the room, where I would kneel, alone, on the boards, until summoned again. They discussed me as though I were not there.

When he was finished he mixed several powders in three or four goblets, adding water to them and stirring them. These I was ordered to drink. The last was peculiarly foul.

"She requires the Stabilization Serums," said the physician.

The guard nodded.

"They are administered in four shots," said the physician. He nodded to a heavy, beamed, diagonal platform in a corner of the room. The guard took me and threw me, belly down, on the platform, fastening my wrists over my head and widely apart, in leather wrist straps. He similarly secured my ankles. the physician was busying himself with fluids and a syringe before a shelf in another part of the room, laden with vials. I screamed. The shot was painful. It was entered in the small of my back, over the left hip.

They left me secured to the table for several minutes and then the physician returned to check the shot. There had been, apparently, no unusual reaction. I was then freed.

"Dress," the physician told me.

I gratefully donned the camisk, fastening it tightly about my waist with the double loop of binding fiber.

I wanted to speak to the physician desperately. In his house, in this room, I had seem instrumentation which spoke to me of an advanced technology, so different from what I had hitherto encountered in what seemed to me a primitive, beautiful, harsh world. The guard, with the side of the butt of his spear, pressed against my back, and I was thrust from the room. I looked over my shoulder at the physician. He regarded me, puzzled.

Outside the other four girls and their guard were waiting. I was leashed, given a burden, and, together, we all returned to Targo's compound.

I thought I saw a small man, garbed in black, watching us, but I was not sure. We returned, similarly, to the physicians house on the next four days. On the first day I had been examined, given some minor medicines of little consequence, and the first shot in the Stabilization Series. On the second, third and fourth day I received the concluding shots of the series. On the fifth day the physician took more samples.

"The serums are effective," he told the guard.

"Good," said the guard.

On the second day, after the shot, I had tried to speak to the physician, in spite of the guard, to beg him for information.

The guard did not beat me but he slapped me twice, bringing blood to my mouth. Then I was gagged.

Later, outside, the guard looked at me, amused.

I stood facing him, head down, gagged.

"Do you wish to wear your gag home to the compound?" he asked. I shook my head vigorously, No. If I did wear it back Targo would surely inquire, and I would doubtless be beaten. I had seem him, once or twice, tell a girl to ask a guard to beat her. The girl is then strung up by the wrists. And the guard uses not the handful of leather strap with which Lana, only with her woman's strength, had struck me, but the five-strap Gorean slave whip, wielded with the full, terrible strength of a man. I had no desire to feel it. I would be compliant, swift to obey and be pleasing in all things. No, I shook my head, no!

"Does the little slave beg her guard's forgiveness?" he asked, teasing me. I nodded vigorously. Yes. It was hard to be a slave girl. Men tease you, but, in an instant they may change, and their eyes grow hard. You must be careful what you say, what you do. They hold the power of the whip. I knelt to him, putting my head down to his feet. Then, as I had seen Lana do once, I gently took his leg in my hands and put my cheek, head down, against the side of his leg. "All right," he said.

He untied the gag. I looked up at him, gratefully, my hands at his hips, as I had seen Lana do.

He suddenly seized me by the arms and lifted me to face him.

Suddenly, with terror, I realized I was going to be raped.

"Ho!" said a voice, that of the other guard. "It is time to return to the compound."

Angrily, my guard released me and I staggered back.

"She is white silk!" said the other guard, laughing uproariously.

The other girls, leashed behind him, were laughing.

My guard, however, with a great laugh, seized me and, like a naughty child, threw me across his knee. He then beat me, soundly, with the stinging flat of his hand, until I cried for mercy and wept.

I was only too happy to be leashed again and carry a burden.

The girls, even Ute, were laughing.

I was annoyed, humiliated. "She's a lovely, isn't she?" said the guard who had interfered. "She is learning the tricks of the slave girl," said my guard, grinning, breathing heavily.

The other guard looked at me. "Stand straight," he said. I did so. "Yes," he said, "she makes a lovely wench." And he added, "I would not mind owning her." I walked back to the compound, proudly, with the deliberate, taunting, insolent grace of the slave girl. I knew then that men wanted me, the leashed animal carrying her burden, Elinor Brinton.

I did not, of course, try to speak again to the physician.

On the fourth day I received the last in the Stabilization Series. On the fifth day the physician had taken his tests and pronounced the serums effective. When I left his house on the fifth day I heard him tell the guard, "An excellent specimen."

The fourth and fifth days I was permitted to carry wine back to the compound. It was true that I had never felt as healthy in my life as I did then, nor had the air seemed as clear and pure, the sky so blue, the clouds so sharp and white. I suddenly realized, climbing the ramps of Laura toward the compound, leashed, under guard, carrying a jar of wine on my head, balancing it with my right hand, among my sisters on bondage, breathing the fantastic air of Gor, that I was happy. Through barefoot, though thonged by the throat, though branded, though clad in a camisk, though a degraded slave, at the mercy of men, I felt, perhaps for the first time in my life, paradoxically, vitally and joyously happy. I now thought more often of men. I knew now that they found me attractive. And, startlingly for the first time in my life, I, too, began to find them attractive, deeply and sensuously attractive, even excitingly so. One would carry his head in a certain way' another laughed well, openly, heartedly; another had sturdy legs; another had long, fine arms and strong hands, a fine chest and head. I found I wanted to look upon them, to stand near them, as if by accident, to touch them, as if inadvertently, perhaps in brushing past them. Sometimes they would discover me looking upon them, and I, responding to their grin, would look down, swiftly, shyly, sometimes I would be pleases when, among the other girls, they would throw me their leather or sandals to clean. I did so, excellently. I did not object either, at the stream on stones, near the compound, to washing their garments. I liked to handle them, to feel the strong fabric that had clung to their sweet strength. Once Ute caught me holding the tunic of the guard who had watched me at the physician's against my cheek, my eyes closed. She squealed with delight and leaped to her feet, standing between the flat rocks in the water, pointing at me. The other girls, too, looked, laughing, slapping at their knees. "El-in-or wants a master!" squealed Ute. "EL-in-or wants a master!" I pursued her into the stream splashing water at her, and she fled away, stumbling, and then turned and fled back to the bank. Ute, and the others, stood there, laughing and pointing at me. I stood knee deep in the swift stream. "El-in-or wants a master!" they cried. Laughing. I stood in the stream, furious, fists clenched. "Yes," I cried, "I want a master!"

Then, angrily, I returned to my laundry, and so, too, did the other girls. But I felt there was now something different. I listened to them chat gaily together, pounding and rinsing the fabrics, in the sunlight, at the edge of that swift stream. And I, too, Elinor Brinton, worked with them. My hands were in the cold water, immersing the fabric, and lifting it and wringing it, and pounding it on the rock, and immersing it again, in simple, ancient rhythms. What was it that was different? I wore my camisk, belted with binding fiber, naught else. I knelt as they. I worked as they. There was no penthouse here, no Maserati, no wealth, no mighty buildings, no roar and drone of engines, no screams of planes, no clouds of choking smoke. There was only the laughter of the girls, the bubbling of the stream, the work, the blue sky and white clouds, the wind and the bending grass, clean air and, somewhere, the call of a tiny horned gim, the tiny purplish owl.

I stopped working for a moment and took a deep breath. I was no longer angry. I felt the binding fiber, in its double loop, tight against my body. I stretched. I felt my body luxuriously protesting the rough fabric of the camisk. I wonder what man would tear it from me.

"Work," said a guard.

I returned to my work, Elinor Brinton, one slave girl among others, primitively washing the clothes of masters at the edge of that swift stream on a beautiful, distant world.

I knelt there on the flat rock, pounding and rinsing the fabric, in the fresh air with the bright blue sky overhead. I listened to the sound of the stream. I looked up and saw the sky. I put down the wet fabric and suddenly stood up on the rock, throwing my arms into the air and laughing. The girls looked at me, bewildered. "Yes! Yes," I cried. "I am a female!"

I stood on the rock in the sun before the rushing stream, my arms raised, eyes closed.

Then I opened my eyes to the blue skies.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" I cried, to all the skies of Gor, and all the stars and all the worlds. "I want a master! I want a master!"

"Return to your work," said a guard.

Swiftly, lest I be beaten, I knelt again on the rock and returned to my washing. I laughed.

The other girls, too, laughed.

I was happy.

Ute, slapping fabric on the flat rocks and rinsing it in the cold water, began to sing.

I was happy. I was one with them.

I found myself looking forward eagerly to my sale. I found myself wondering, curiously, what it would be like to be owned by a man. Sometimes, when the other girls were not looking, I put my hand to my throat, as though his collar were there. I pretended to trace the lettering on the collar, which proclaimed me his. I did not even have an objection to being sold in Laura. It seemed to me a simple, wild, lovely place, with the glorious air and sky, the forest to the north, the river to the south. I loved its ramps going down to the river and winding among the warehouses, the painted, carved wood on its buildings, the black shingles, the smell of bosk on the ramps and the creak of wagons, the smell of fish and salt, and glistening tharlarion, from the river, the smell of hides and fur, and sawed lumber, at the docks. And her men I liked, in their rough cloaks and tunics, vital, supple, strong men, large-handed and laughing, men who worked with their hands and backs in the clean air and on the river. I wondered if he would take me with him on journeys and sometimes, where no one could see, walking in the fields, though I were slave, hold my hand. I had seen a master and his girl kissing in a doorway in Laura. I had seen her eyes. How I had envied her! She loved him. I hoped, for her sake, that he would not sell her. It is strange. Not until I had become a slave girl, and understood that men might own me, did I become so devastatingly, thrillingly, aware of them, the rude beauty and strength of their bodies, and their power. Interestingly, for the first time in my life, I found that I was not displeased to be a woman. I was pleased, rather, indeed, thrilled, that they were men. It is joyous to be a woman on Gor, even though slave, with such men. I would not have exchanged my sex, though I was only a girl in bondage, for the throne of Ar.

That afternoon, Targo called me aside. "Slave," he called. I, frightened, not knowing what I might have done, ran to him and knelt at his feet, head down. I trembled.

"Lift your head," he said.

I did so.

"When the display chain is put forth again," he said, "you are Eleven Girl." I could not believe my ears. "Thank you, Master," I whispered. There were sixteen girls in the chain now, for Targo had sold four before coming to Laura. The hundred village girls were not included in the display chain. They were to be sold in Ar.

"You are high on the chain now," said Targo.

I put my head down.

"You are almost beautiful," he said.

When I lifted my head he had gone.

I was much pleased.

I ran to the barred gate of the compound and the guard unlocked it, and I went inside, and then he closed the gate, relocking it.

He did not make me remove my camisk before entering. We were now permitted to wear our camisks in the compound. Even the village girls, yesterday, under the eyes of guards, had cut and sewn camisks for themselves. They wore them happily. It was the first clothing they had been permitted since they had been taken by the marauders of Haakon of Skjern. I do not know why, for certain, we were permitted clothing in the compound. It may have been, of course, because the weather had now cleared and the compound was no longer muddy, but I do not really think so. I think it was rather because Targo was, simply, rather pleased with the lot of us. His older girls, among whom I numbered myself, were excellent goods. His new girl, the Lady Rena of Lydius, would net him fifty-five gold pieces if she could be delivered in Ar to her captain from Tyros. And his hundred village girls, bought for only two gold pieces a girl, could well stand to make him rich, if they could be brought to Ar before the Love Feast. Targo was in a good mood. That is why, I think, Targo permitted us clothing in the compound.

I ran to tell Ute and Inge that I was now Eleven Girl. We hugged and kissed one another.

Lana was high girl, of course, Sixteen. Inge was second, even though she had been of high caste, Fifteen. Ute was Fourteen. It was not only prestigious to be high on the chain, but, of course, then one's price is commonly higher as well, and, accordingly, one's master is somewhat more likely to be well fixed.

I strutted before Ute and Inge, in the rough camisk. "I do not object," I told them, loftily, "if my master chooses to dress me in silk."

We laughed.

"Let us hope," said Inge, "you are not purchased by the mast of a paga tavern." I looked at her, irritably.

"They can often afford fine girls," said Inge, "paying more than many private masters can."

I swallowed.

"Of all the slave girls sold, however," observed Inge, "very few are purchased for taverns."

I looked at her gratefully.

"Perhaps you will be purchased for a serving slave or a tower slave," said Inge. I stretched luxuriously in the camisk. "No," I said, lazily, "I think I will be purchased for a pleasure slave."

Ute clapped her hands with pleasure.

"But you are untrained," pointed out Inge.

"I can learn," I informed her.

"All of us, I have heard," said Ute, "will receive training in the pens of Ko-ro-ba."

I had heard this, too.

"I will doubtless train superbly," I told them.

"How different you are," exclaimed Ute, "since you have come to us!" "Do you think, El-in-or," asked Inge, "that I, though of the Scribes, might give pleasure to a man?"

"Take off your camisk," I told her, "and I will assess you."

She laughed.

"What of me?" howled Ute.

We laughed at her. Neither of us had the least doubt that Ute would be a treasure for any man.

"You will be superb," I told her. "Yes," said Inge, warmly, "superb!"

"But what," wailed Ute, "if we are all purchased by the same master?" I leaned forward, menacingly toward them. "I will scratch your eyes out!" I cried.

We all laughed and hugged and kissed again.

Later that afternoon there was an entertainment at the compound. A mountebank, with pointed hat, with a tuft on it, in silly robes, with his painted clown's face, leading a strange animal, arrived at the compound. For a copper tarn disk he would give a performance at the compound. We all begged Targo, even the village girls, that he be permitted to do so. Targo consented, to our delight, and the small mountebank with the strange animal cleared a small space near the bars on the far side of the compound, away from the bars forming the common wall with the compound of Haakon of Skjern. We, and the hundred village girls, delighted, pressed against the bars to watch. Vaguely, the small mountebank, in his swirling, silly robes, with his painted face, seemed somehow familiar, but I knew he could not be. How absurd that would be! He danced and turned somersaults, and sang silly songs, before the bars. He was a small, thin man, agile. He had quick eyes, and hands. And he told funny stories and jokes. He also performed magic tricks, with silks and scarves, and juggled colored hoops he wore at his belt. Then he would reach through the bars and pretend to find coins in the hair of the girls. From my hair, to my delight, he seemed to draw forth a silver tarsk. The girls cried out in envy. It was the most expensive coin he found. I blushed with pleasure. Lana was not much pleased. I laughed. We laughed and clapped our hands with pleasure. During this time his beast slept, or seemed to sleep, behind him, curled on the grass, a guard holding its chain. Then the mountebank, with a bow, turned to the animal and, taking its chain from the guard, spoke to it, abruptly and authoritatively. "Awaken, Sleepy One!" he said. "Stand straight!" The beast frightened us. We were pleased it was so tame, so much under the control of its master.

Slowly the beast lifted itself to its hind legs, and lifted its paws and opened its mouth.

Several of the girls screamed. I, too, shrank back from the bars.

It was an incredibly hideous, large-eyed, furred thing. It has wide, pointed ears. It stood perhaps eight or nine feet high. It may have weighed seven or eight hundred pounds. It had a wide, two-nostriled, leathery snout. Its mouth was huge, large enough to take a man's head into it, and it was rimmed with two rows of stout fangs. There were four larger fangs, long and curved, for grasping, in the position of the canines. The upper two fangs protruded at the side of the jaws when its mouth was closed. It had a long, dark tongue. Its forelegs were larger than its hindlegs. I had seen it move, shambling on its hind legs, and on the knuckles of its forelegs, but now I saw that what I had taken for forelegs were not unlike arms and hands. Indeed, they had six digits, several jointed, almost like tentacles, which terminated in clawlike growths, which had been blunted and filed. It also had claws on its hindlegs, or feet, which were retractable, as the mountebank demonstrated, issuing sharp voice commands to the beast. The hindlegs, or feet, like the forelegs, or hands, if one may so speak, were also six-digited and multiply jointed. They were large and spreading. The claws, as I saw when they were exposed, upon the order of the mountebank, were better than four inches long, curved and sharp. I could not even determine in my mind whether to think of it as a four footed animal, with unusual prehensile forelegs, or as something manlike, with two legs and two arms, with hands. It was tailless.

Perhaps most horrifying were the eyes. They were large and black-pupiled. For an instant I thought they rested upon me, and saw me, but not as an animal sees, but as something might see that is not an animal. Then, again, they were simple and vacant, those of a mountebank's performing beast. I dismissed the sensation of uneasiness from my mind.

With the other girls I applauded, striking my left shoulder in Gorean fashion, as the mountebank put his beast through its paces.

Now it was sitting comically on its rump with its paws fluttering in the air. Now it was rolling over and over. Then it was whining, begging piteously. Frequently, from a large pocket in his robes, the mountebank would throw the animal a tiny piece of bosk meat, when it had performed well. Sometimes he would scold it, and withhold the meat. Then the animal would put down its head, and turn it to the side, like a reprimanded child. And then the mountebank would give it its piece of meat. The guards enjoyed the performance as well as the girls. I saw that even Targo laughed, holding his belly in his blue-and-yellow slaver's robes. Sometimes the mountebank would give pieces of meat to the girls to throw to the beast. Lana begged hardest and was given the most pieces of meat. She threw me a look of triumph. I threw only one piece of meat to the animal and that quickly. The beast frightened me. Lana did not seem afraid at all. The piece of meat disappeared into that vast, fanged orifice and the large, round eyes blinked sleepily, contentedly. The girls laughed. And I saw the eyes look at me once again. I put my hand before my mouth, terrified. But then I saw that they were again vacant and stupid, those of a beast. Soon, once again, telling myself how silly I had been, I was laughing again with the other girls. At the conclusion of the mountebank's performance he gave a great, deep bow, bending at the waist and doffing his hat in a great, sweeping arc. We might even have been free women! How pleased we were! We leaped up and down, we clapped our hands with pleasure, we struck our left shoulders, we cried out, we thrust our hands through the bars to him, and, to our delight, through we were slave, he came to the bars and kissed and touched our hands. Then he stood back and waved at us.

Then, to our sorrow, his performance was over.

He stepped back. There was a silence.

The beast then rose to its hind legs, sleepily, and regarded us. Then, suddenly, it gave a hideously terrifying roar and sprang toward the bars, its great clawed appendages grasping towards us, its huge, fanged hole of a mouth wild with its white traps of teeth, howling and hissing. It struck the bars, reaching through them, its teeth grating on them, its chain striking against the iron, its claws scraping towards us. We stumbled back, terrified and screaming, trying to flee, but impeding one another. I found myself thrown from my feet and helpless, tangled and pressed in upon by the bodies of my sisters in bondage. And as I could not free myself so could not those whom I and others pressed in upon. I screamed and screamed. Then we became aware that the guards, and Targo, were laughing. They had been warned. It had been part of the performance, but scarcely one to our liking. How comical we must have seemed in our rout, our terror. How comical to the guards and Targo, and the mountebank, must have seemed that undignified pile, that squirming, panic-stricken heap, that helpless, terrified, screaming tangle of slave girls. The monster was now sitting quietly beside the mountebank, licking its jaws, half-asleep, its eyes empty and vacant, blinking. The guards were still laughing, and Targo was still smiling. Body by body, the tangle of slave femininity unraveled itself. I think we were all humiliated and embarrassed, so fooled we had been, so miserable and precipitate had been our flight. But, too, we were still frightened. Some of us stood near the tiny door to the heavy log dormitory, ready to run within. Others had fled to the opposite wall of bars. Most of us stood near the bars, but back some feet from them. I angrily, but still frightened, smoothed down my camisk, as though it had been a dress. I looked at the men laughing. How clever they thought they were! They were beasts, all of them! I suppose they were big, brave men, with their spears and swords, and if the beast charged at them, they would just stand there and kill it, while we, only women, fled like screaming children. I looked at the men. I hated them. They thought they were so clever, so brave, so great, so different from us! But then I blushed red, every bit of me not covered by the camisk. We had fled like screaming children. We had fled like women! We were women! I was still terrified of the beast, even separated from it by bars. What did they expect? I did not care for their lesson. But I have never forgotten it. We learned it well. We were different! I recalled how a guard had once given me his spear, and it had been so heavy, I could throw it only a few feet. He had then taken it from me and hurled it into a block of wood, head deep, more than a hundred feet away. He sent me to fetch it for him and I had scarcely been able to work it free of the wood. His shield I had barely been able to lift. On Earth I had not thought much of the strength of men. Strength had not seemed important. It had seemed unimportant, irrelevant. But on Gor I realized that strength was important, very important. And that we were weaker than they, far, far, weaker, and that, on such a world, if they chose, we were theirs. That night I had cleaned his leather and sandals, as a slave girl, kneeling to one side, while he conversed with men. When I had finished, I remained kneeling there, waiting for him. when he had finished he arose and, without thanking me, put on the leather and sandals, then gestured that I should precede him to the compound. He unlocked the barred gate and opened it. In the threshold I turned to face him. "I, too, am a human being," I told him.

He smiled. "No," he said. "You are a Kajira." Then he turned me about and, with a proprietary slap, sped me through the gate. He then closed the gate and locked it.

I pressed against the bars putting my hands through, trying to touch him. He came back to the bars and took my hands, holding me against the bars. "When will you use me?" I asked.

"You are white silk," he had said, and turned away.

I had moaned, leaning against the bars, lonely. I was filled with strange sensations. The three moons were bright in the sky. I shook the bars, but I was locked within. I saw him disappear in the darkness, toward the wagons. I held the bars, and pressed my cheek against them, and wept.

Ute, and several of the girls, I realized, were laughing at themselves and us. It had been a splendid joke on us, the charge of an animal! What a jolly conclusion to the mountebank's performance. I could not laugh, but I did smile. The girls were now waving to the mountebank and he, smiling and bowing, acknowledged our attention and then, with his large, strange animal on its chain, turned and left.

How precious and delightful Ute was!

Soon we were all laughing with her. Several of the girls began to sing. My sense of pleasure returned. I raced Inge to the end of the compound and back, and beat her. Some of the girls began to play tag, and games. Even some of the northern girls joined with us. We had a cloth ball, stuffed with rags, and, laughing, we threw this about. Some of the girls sat in circles, telling stories. Others faced one another, kneeling, and, with string and their fingers, played an intricate cat's cradle game. Others played «Stones» where one player guesses the number of stones held in the other's hand. I tried cat's cradle game but I could not play it. I always became confused, trying to copy the intricate patterns. How beautifully they would suddenly, in all their complexity, appear. The other girls laughed at my clumsiness. The northern girls, incidentally, were very skilled at this game. They could beat us all.

"It takes much practice," said Ute.

"There is nothing much else to do in the villages," said Lana, who refused to try the game.

At «Stones» however, I was genuinely pleased with myself. It has two players, who take alternate turns. Each player has the same number of "Stones," usually two to five per player. The «Stones» are usually pebbles or beads, but in the cities one can buy small polished, carved boxes containing ten "stones," the quality of which may vary from polished ovoid stones, with swirling patterns, to gems worth the ransom of a merchant's daughter. The object of the game is simple, to guess the number of stones held the other's hand or hands. One point is scored for a correct guess, and the game is usually set for a predetermined number of paired guesses, usually fifty. Usually your opponent tries to outwit you, by either changing the number of stones held in his hand or, perhaps, keeping it the same. I was quite successful at this game, and I could beat most of the girls. I could even beat Inge, who was of the scribes. I challenged Lana to "Stones," bur she would not play with me. Ute, however, of all those I played with, I could not beat. This irritated me, for Ute was stupid. She even made mistakes in speaking her own language. She was only of the leather workers, too! But it was hard to remain angry with Ute. I was pleased with the afternoon. I was now Eleven Girl. I had seen the mountebank's performance, and I had enjoyed myself afterward.

I saw that a cart loaded with jugs of paga, arrived at the compound. It was greeted with cheers by the guards. Tonight was a night to for celebration. Tomorrow we would leave the compound and begin the overland journey across the river and southeast to Ko-ro-ba, and from thence to Ar.

Targo's wagons, now in the number of sixteen, the additional wagons and teams purchased in Laura, were scattered about at various distances from the compound, forming, in groups of twos and threes, small, isolated camps for the guards. Besides the nine guards who had been with him when I was captured, he had now eighteen additional men. They had been hired in Laura, known men, vouched for, not drifting mercenaries. Targo, in his way, may have been a gambler, but he was not a fool.

Ute came rushing to me, happily, and seized my arm.

"Tonight," she laughed, " when the food is served, you and I, and Lana, are not to go to the food line."

"Why not? I asked, in dismay. On Earth I had been a very finicky eater. On Gor, however, I had developed a fantastic appetite. I was not at all pleased with the prospect of losing my supper. What had we done?

Ute pointed through the bars at one of the groups of wagons, some hundred yards from the compound, toward the forests. Some five guards camped there.

"They had asked Targo to permit us to serve them," she said.

I flushed with pleasure. I liked to be outside the compound, and I enjoyed being near to the men. Never before had I served so small and intimate a group. Moreover, I knew the guards, for they had been with Targo since my capture. I liked them.

That evening, as it was growing dark, Ute and I, and Lana, did not go to the food line. A girl, however, was given a pan of food to give me for the new girl, chained in the dormitory. I took this food, and a water bag, within the darkened log enclosure.

It had been a beautiful day, and I was pleased. Moreover, I was looking forward to the evening.

This time, when I fed the new girl, the former Lady Rena of Lydius, I permitted her to eat at her own pace, and gave her the water bag more than once. When she had finished she looked at me. "May I speak?" she asked.

I saw that the hood, her gag and the bonds had taught her slavery. "Yes," I said.

"Thank you, she said.

I kissed her, and then regagged her and rehooded her.

When I went outside I returned the water bag to its hook outside the door of the dormitory, and gave the pan back to the girl who had given it to me. She was doing kitchen work that night. She was one of the village girls. The kitchen was an open, roofed shed abutting on the log dormitory, outside the bars. She was gathering pans inside the compound. They she was released to go to the kitchen, where, with some other of the northern girls, their arms immersed to the elbows in wooden tubs of heated water, she set about washing the pans. Targo had not had his older girls subjected to this kitchen work. We were pleased by this. It was surely work more fit for the blond, northern girls. I knelt with Ute and Lana inside the gate, leading from the girl cage. I was hungry, and it was now dusk.

"When do we eat? I asked Ute.

"After the masters," said Ute, referring to the guards in the plural, "if we please them."

"If we please them?" I asked.

"I am always fed," said Lana.

"Do not fear," said Ute, laughing at me, "you are white silk!"

I looked down.

"You will please them," Ute reassured me. "We all will. Why do you think they asked for us?"

"Perhaps we should have eaten in the food line," I said.

"And be beaten?" asked Lana.

"No," I said, confused.

"A hungry girl often serves better," said Ute. Then she laughed at me. "Do not fear," she said. "If they like you, they will throw you food."

"Oh," I said.

I was irritated. Elinor Brinton, of Park Avenue, of Earth, did not care to be thrown food like an animal, provided she pleased her masters!

"Wenches! boomed a voice.

We jumped. I flushed with pleasure. We leaped to our feet. Our guards had come for us!

The gate was unlocked.

We knelt on the grass. How pleasant it was not to be behind the bars of the girl cage.

Three guards had come for us. I knew them, and the other two, with whom they camped. They were among my favorites. I was excited. Sometimes, before falling asleep, or even in my dreams, I had fancied myself in their arms. I could imagine the pleasure of being held, helpless, in their strong arms. But beyond this I had only the white silk girl's dim sense of the changes they could bring about in my body, only the vague instinctual sensing, deep in my femaleness, of the fantastic pleasures to which a slave girl may be subjected by her master, pleasures by means of which he may, if it pleases him, totally and completely dominate her, making her helplessly, irreservedly his, naught but a yielded slave girl.

The men were in fine humor.

One of them pointed across the grass to the fire between the wagons. It was more than a hundred yards off, glowing in the darkness, away from the compound.

The men then removed their sword belts, holding the short swords and scabbards in their left hand, the belts in their right.

"No!" laughed Ute. "No!"

Ute and Lana sprang to their feet and raced toward the fire. I was slower than they. I was suddenly stung, smartly, with the fierce slap of a sword belt. "Oh! I cried, in pain, and leaped to my feet, and ran stumbling toward the fire. They were swifter than we, of course. Ute, Lana and I ran, laughing and stumbling, barefoot, squealing in protest, crying out in pain, through the darkness over the grass toward the fire.

Ute reached it first, laughing, falling to her hands and knees and putting her head down to the grass, her hair falling over the sandal of one of the two guards waiting there. "I beg to serve you, Masters!" she gasped, laughing. Lana was but an instant behind her and she, too, fell to her hands and knees, head down. "I beg to serve you, Masters!" she cried.

I was stung once more and then, like Ute and Lana, I too was on my hands and knees, head down, touching the grass. "I a€“ I beg to serve you, Masters!" I cried.

"Then serve!" cried one of the fellows at the fire, he whose sandal was lost in Ute's dark hair. Suddenly there were three more sharp slaps of the sword belts and, crying out, protesting, begging for mercy, laughing, we leapt to our feet to busy ourselves.

Lana, Ute and I knelt in a line, facing the players. Our hands were bound behind our backs with binding fiber.

The men, wagering, tossed us pieces of meat.

We caught them, in the firelight. A catch was two points. A piece which was dropped was fair game for any. We fought for the dropped pieces. The retrieval of such a piece was one point. Ute dropped a piece and Lana and I fought, each holding to a part of the fallen prize, rolling and tearing. I struggled back to my knees, tearing my head to one side. "Mine!" I cried, swallowing the meat, almost choking, laughing.

"Mine!" cried Lana, gorging the other half of the meat.

"Point for each," adjudicated one of the guards.

We were excited, and wanted to play further.

"We are weary," said one of the guards. We saw copper disks being exchanged. Elinor Brinton had done well for her guard. He was pleased with her. She suffused with pleasure as he snapped his fingers for her to approach him. She leaped to her feet and ran to him, where he shook her head roughly, and unbound her.

"Fetch me paga," he said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

I went to the wagon to fetch a large bota of paga, which had been filled from one of the large jugs.

Lana and Ute, too, went to the wagon, to fetch other botas, so commanded by other guards.

Soon I returned to the firelight, the heavy bota of paga, on its strap, slung over my shoulder. Ute and Lana, with theirs, behind me.

The grass felt good to my bare feet. It seemed I could feel each blade. I felt the rough fabric of the camisk on my body as I moved, the pull of the strap on my shoulder, the heavy, swaying touch of the bota as, in the rhythm of my walk, it touched my side. Beyond the fire, in the distance, like an irregular margin, a torn, soft, dark edge hiding the bright stars of Gor, I could see the lofty, still blackness of the borders of the northern forests. Far off, I heard the scream of a hunting sleen. I shivered.

Then I heard the laughing of the men, and turned again toward the fire. Back away toward the compound, here and there on the meadow, I could see other fires, and clusters of wagons. This was a night for paga, for celebration. Tomorrow, Targo, and his men and his merchandise, would make their way to Laura and, crossing the river there, begin their long, overland journey to Ko-ro-ba, called by some the Towers of the Morning, and from thence to luxurious Ar itself. The journey would be not only long and hard but dangerous.

"Paga!" called the guard.

I hurried to him.

"Let Lana dance," whimpered Lana.

The guard handed me a piece of meat and I took it in my teeth kneeling beside him, where he sat cross-legged, I lifting and squeezing the bota of paga, filled from one of the large jugs, guiding the stream of liquid into his mouth. I bit through the charred exterior of the meat, into the red, hot, half-raw, juicy interior.

The guard, with one hand, gestured that he had had enough.

I laid the bota aside on the grass.

I closed my eyes, running my tongue about the inside of my mouth, and over my teeth and lips, savoring the juice and taste of the externally charred, hot, half-raw meat.

Tomorrow we would begin the journey to Ko-ro-ba, and from thence to luxurious, glorious Ar.

I opened my eyes.

The fire was very beautiful, and the shadows on the wagon canvas.

Ute was humming.

"I want to dance," said Lana. She was lying beside one of the guards, her head at his waist. She bit at his body through the fabric of the tunic. "I want to dance," she teased. Her body was beautiful in the parting of the camisk. "Perhaps," he encouraged her.

The guards had liked us, muchly, and had apparently expected that they would for, to our delight, they had purchased a small bottle of Ka-la-na wine, in a wicker basket, which they had permitted us, swallow by swallow, to share. I had never tasted so rich and delicate a wine on Earth, and yet here, on this world, it cost only a copper tarn disk and was so cheap, and plentiful, that it might be given even to a female slave. I remembered each of the four swallows which I had had. I tasted them even still, with the meat and bread which I had eaten. It was the first Gorean fermented beverage which I had tasted. It is said that Ka-la-na has an unusual effect on a female. I think it is true.

I took the hand of the guard near whom I knelt, and placed it at my waist, slipping his fingers inside the double loop of binding fiber that belted my camisk, that he might hold me.

His fist suddenly tightened the loop, and I gasped, being suddenly drawn toward him.

We looked at one another.

"What are you going to do with me, Master?" I asked.

He laughed. "You silken little sleen," he said. He removed his hand from the binding fiber. I reached out for him. He thrust a huge piece of the yellow Sa-Tarna bread into my hands. "Eat," he said.

Looking at him, smiling, holding the bread in both hands, I began to eat it. "She-sleen," he smiled.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Targo would take my hide off to the backbone," he muttered.

"Yes, Master," I smiled.

"She is only white silk," said Lana. "Lana is red silk. Let Lana please you." "Lana," I told her, loftily, "could not please an urt." Lana screeched with rage as Ute, and the men, laughed, and leaped toward me. The fellow over whom she leapt seized her by one ankle, and she fell short of me, crying out in fury. He dragged her back and pulled her to her feet, where he held her by the arms, kicking and squirming.

Another of the guards, laughing, untied the double loop of binding fiber which belted her camisk, and drawing the fiber about her body, as she cried out, threw it aside. Then he tore her camisk from her. The guard held her then threw her to the grass at their feet. She looked up at them, frightened. Would she be beaten? "If you have so much energy," said the guard who had torn away the camisk, "you may dance for us."

Lana looked up, her eyes bright with pleasure. "Yes," she cried, "let Lana dance." Then she threw me a look of hatred. "We shall see who can please men!" she cried.

Another of the guards had gone to one of the wagons, and, as he returned, I heard the sound of slave bells.

Lana stood proudly beside the fire, her head back and arms down, and extended at her sides, while the bells, mounted in their double rows, on their straps, were fastened on her wrists and ankles.

Meanwhile the Ka-la-na bottle was brought forth again by another guard. He held it for Lana to drink, and then passed it to Ute and myself. There was a bit left and I gave it back to him, and he handed it to the now-belled Lana. With a barbaric jangle of bells she threw back her head and finished the bottle. She threw the bottle to one side and put down her head, and then brought her head up and back, shaking her head back and forth, her hair flying, and she stamped down on her right foot.

Ute and the men began to sing and clap, one of them slapping at the leather of a shield.

I thought I saw a movement in the darkness, beyond the wagons.

Lana, for an instant, stopped, her hands lifted over her head. "Who is beautiful?" she demanded. "Who pleases men?" "Lana," I cried, in spite of myself. "Lana is beautiful! Lana pleases men!" I could not help myself. I was stunned, and then overwhelmed. I had not realized that my sex was capable of such beauty. Lana was incredibly beautiful, extraordinarily, utterly and incredibly beautiful.

I could scarcely speak, so thrilled I was.

Then with a tempestuous flash of slave bells Lana again danced in the firelight, before the men.

I became aware, suddenly, that the hand of the guard near whom I knelt, his fist, was in the binding fiber that belted my camisk.

I sensed furtive movement, to one side.

"Master?" I asked.

He was not watching Lana. He was lying on his back, looking up at me, kneeling near him.

I could her the slave bells, the song of the Ute and the men, their clapping, the slapped rhythm on the leather shield.

"Kiss me," said the man.

"I am white silk," I whispered.

"Kiss me," he said.

I bent toward him, a Gorean Kajira, obeying her master. My hair fell about his head. My lips, delicately, obediently, lowered themselves toward his. I was trembling.

My lips parted, but his hands on my arms held me.

I struggled, terrified, trying to pull away.

I was held, his prisoner.

He seemed puzzled at my struggles, my terror. But then, too, I felt helpless, and furious. I hated him. I hated all men, and their strength. They exploited us, they dominated us, they forced us to serve them, and do their bidding! They were cruel to us! They did not acknowledge our humanity! And mixed with my anger and terror were the instinctual fears of the white-silk girl, dreading to be made a woman. And most, perhaps, mixed therein were the fury and the frustration, and terror, of the spoiled, rich, Earth girl, Elinor Brinton, resenting her station, repudiating the role that had been given her so undeservedly on this barbaric world. I am Elinor Brinton, I cried to myself! She is no slave! She obeys no man! She is free! Free! The girl who had worn the black, buttoning, midriff blouse, the tan slacks, who had owned the Maserati, who had had three quarters of a million dollars, who had had a penthouse, who had modeled, and traveled, struggled. The exquisite, beautiful, educated, sophisticated, smartly attired, tasteful girl struggled. The Earth girl struggled, finding herself in the arms of a barbarian on a distant world. "Do not touch me," I hissed at him.

He turned about, easily, placing me on my back on the grass.

"I hate you! I hate you! I wept.

I saw the look of anger come into his eyes. He held me very tightly. Then, too, to my dismay, I saw another look, which I, even white silk, understood. I would not be simply used, and discarded. I had irritated him. I moaned. I would be used with patience, and care, and delicacy and thoroughness, and efficient mastery, until I had yielded myself to him, on his terms, not mine, until I, proud and angry and free, had been reduced to a surrendered female slave. I tried to struggle. I heard the bells of Lana, the singing and clapping of Ute and the men, the slapping of the rhythm of Lana's dance on the leather of the shield.

His large head bent toward my throat. I turned my head to one side, weeping. Suddenly there was a rush about us of bodies, the sound of blows, Lana began to scream, but the scream was muffled. Ute cried out, but then her cry, too, was abruptly terminated. The men tried to climb to their feet, shouting in anger. There were blows, heavy blows from the darkness. The man who had held me leaped half to his feet, crying out, when something large and heavy struck him on the side of the head. He fell to one side in the grass. I tried to dart to my feet but two bodies, those of girls, thrust themselves on me. Another girl snapped a choke leash on my throat, twisting it, so that I almost strangled. As I opened my mouth, gasping for air, a wadding was thrust into it by another girl. Then I was gagged. The pressure on my throat then eased. I was thrown onto my stomach and, with binding fiber, my wrists were tied behind my back. Then, by the choke leash, half strangling, I was dragged to my feet.

"Build up the fire," said the leader of the girls, a tall, blondish girl. How startling she seemed. She carried a light spear. She was dressed in skins. There were barbaric golden ornaments on her arms, and about her neck.

Another of the girls threw wood on the fire.

I looked about.

Girls knelt beside the last two of the guards, fastening them in bonds. Then they stood up.

I saw that Lana and Ute, were already bound and gagged.

"Shall we enslave the men?" asked one of the girls.

"No," said the tall, blond girl.

The girl who had asked the question gestured to Ute and Lana. "What of them?" she asked.

"You saw them," said the tall, blond girl. "Leave them here. They are Kajiras." My heart leapt. These were forest girls, sometimes called panther girls, who lived wild and free in the northern forests, outlaw women, sometimes enslaving men, when it pleased them to do so.

Doubtless they had seem me struggle! I was no Kajira! Doubtless they wanted me to join them! Now I would be free! Perhaps, somehow, they could even help me return to Earth. In any case, they would free me! I would be free!

But I stood there on the grass, gagged, my hands bound behind my back, a choke leash on my throat, held by one of the girls.

It did not seem that I was free.

"Drag the me about the fire," said the tall girl. "Yes, Verna," said one of the other girls.

Together, in pairs, the girls dragged the men back to the fire. The men, too, by now, had been gagged. Only one of them had regained consciousness. One of the girls in the skins knelt before him, holding a knife at his throat, her hand in his hair.

Some of the girls threw aside their clubs. They looked at the men, their hands on their hips, and laughed.

How elated I was, that they had come swiftly from the darkness, with clubs, and had made captives of men, taking them as simply as girls. But I, too, had been bound.

The tall girl, the blond girl, their leader, called Verna, lithe in the skins of forest panthers, in her golden ornaments, with her spear, strode to where Lana lay on the grass, on her side, bound and gagged. With her spear, Verna rolled Lana onto her back. Lana looked up at her in terror. Verna's spear was at her throat.

"You danced well," said Verna.

Lana trembled.

Verna looked at her with contempt, and then drew aside the spear. She kicked Lana savagely in the side. "Kajira!" she scorned.

The tall girl then went to Ute and kicked her as well, again saying, "Kajira!" Lana whimpered, but Ute made no sound. There were tears in her eyes over the gag.

"Tie the men in sitting positions about the fire," ordered Verna.

Her girls, perhaps fifteen of them, complied. They used a heavy chest, and a wagon tongue, to do so.

From a distance it would appear that they sat about the fire.

Verna approached me.

She frightened me. She seemed tall, and strong. There was a feline arrogance in the barbarian beauty. She seemed magnificent and fierce in the brief skins and golden ornaments. She put her spear point under my chin and lifted my head. "What shall we do with the slave?" asked one of the girls.

Verna turned about, to regard Lana and Ute. She gestured to Ute. "Remove that one's camisk," she said. Then she said, "Tie them at the feet of their masters." Ute was stripped of her camisk, and then she and Lana, with a loop of binding fiber fastened to the ankles of two of the guards, were tied by the throat at their feet.

Again I felt the point of Verna's spear under my chin, forcing my head up. She looked at me for a long time. Then she said, "Kajira."

I shook my head in denial. No! No!

Some of the girls were rifling in the wagons, gathering food, coins and drink, cloth, knives, whatever they wished.

They were now ready to depart.

The men were now conscious, and struggled, but they were helpless.

From a distance it might appear they were merely sitting about the fire, celebrating, two Kajirae at their feet.

I could see other fires, other wagon clusters about the meadow. From one of them came the sound of singing.

The men pulled at their bonds.

I supposed they might not be discovered until morning.

"Strip her," said Verna to one of her girls. I shook my head, No! My camisk was cut from me. I stood only as a bound slave among them.

"Burn the camisk and binding fiber," said Verna.

I watched the garment and fiber thrown on the flames. It would not be used to give my scent to domesticated sleen, trained to hunt slaves.

"Put more wood on the fire," commanded Verna.

More logs were thrown on the fire.

Then Verna turned away from me, and strode before the men.

How beautiful she was, and proud and fierce, in the brief skins and golden ornaments. She was beautifully figured and she carried herself arrogantly before them, taunting them with her beauty, and spear.

"I am Verna," she told them, "a Panther Girl, of the High Forests. I enslave men, when it pleases me. When I tire of them I sell them." She walked back and forth before them. "You are tarsks and beasts," she told them. "We despise you," she said. "We have outwitted you, and captured you. We have bound you. If we wished, we would take you into the forests and teach you what it is to be a slave!" As she spoke she jabbed at them with her spear, and a stain of blood was brought through the fabric of more than one tunic. "Men!" laughed Verna, contemptuously, and turned away from them.

I saw them struggle, but they could not free themselves. They had been bound by Panther Girls.

Then Verna was standing before me. She appraised me, as might have a slaver. "Kajira," she said, contemptuously.

I shook my head, No!

Without looking back she strode, spear in hand, from the camp, toward the dark forests in the distance.

Her girls followed her, leaving the fire, and the bound men, and Ute and Lana, whom they had tied at the feet of two of the guards.

The choke leash slid shut on my throat and, half strangling, stumbling, stripped and gagged, my hands bound behind my back, I was dragged after them, toward the darkness of the forest.