Hunters of Gor

5 We Enter Upon the River

It was now four days following my arrival, the master of the Tesephone, in the harbor of Lydius, near the mouth of the broad, winding Laurius River. We had taken on supplies, and my men, on shore, in the paga taverns, had rested, and had muchly pleasured themselves with the lovely recreations of the port. I stood at the rail of my ship.

The urt shields were still fastened to the mooring ropes, circular plates, preventing small port urts from boarding the ship. The urts which had been placed in the lower hold, before making landfall in Lydius, those which had figured in my interrogation of the panther girls, Tana and Ela, had been removed the following morning. Thurnock and Rim, with snares and nets, and by the light of the tharlarion oil lamps, had captured them. As we coasted the shores pasangs above Lydius, we had thrown them overboard. They had splashed beneath the water and then, in a moment, their snouts and sleek heads had poked upward, shining and dripping, and then, they, all six of them, noses like compass needles, smelling the land, had turned in the water and tails whipping, leaving snakelike curves in the water, had sped toward the distant forests.

We laughed.

They had been useful.

The girls, Tana and Ela, by my order, had not known that the urts had been thrown from the ship. They had been, by my orders, sanding the deck before the stern castle. As far as the girls knew there were still urts in the lower hold. As far as they knew, they might be again bound, and placed there. They worked well.

I looked down to the shore, and saw Cara, lovely in the brief woolen slave tunic, her hair bound back with the fillet of white wool. Her feet were muddy. Near a piling, small and delicate in the mud, she had found a talender. She bent to pick it up, and fastened it in her hair, for Rim. She had been ashore to buy some loaves of Sa-Tarna bread. The girl commonly carries the coin, or coins, in her mouth, for slave tunics, like most Gorean garments, have no pockets. Slaves are not permitted wallets, or pouches, as free persons. The baker had tied the sack about her neck, with a baker’s knot, fastened behind the back of her neck. The girl is not supposed to be able to see to undo the knot. Even if she works it about to before her throat, she cannot see it. If she should untie it, it is unlikely she will be able to retie it properly. Naturally the sack may not be opened unless the knot has been undone. The baker’s knot is supposed to minimize the amount of pilfering of pastries, and such, which might otherwise be done by slave girls. Cara straightened up, the talender in her hair. She was quite lovely. I rejoiced for Rim. The talender, fixed in her hair, is a slave girl’s wordless confession, which, commonly, she dares not speak, that she cares for her master. I noted that Rim, after our first day in Lydius, had not much frequented the paga taverns. He had spent more time on board, with lovely Cara, his slave.

Rim, now, however, was wandering about Lydius, before we set forth for Laura. He had wanted to make small purchases, among them a new shaving knife. “Wash your feet, Slave,” said I to Cara, as she began to mount the gangplank. “yes, Master,” she said, darting back down the gangplank. She went below the wharf and, standing on stones, washed her feet in the water. Slave girls on Gor address all free men as Master, all free women as Mistress.

Yesterday I had sent Tina for bread.

The sensuous little slave was not standing near to me.

“How do you like your collar?” I asked her. It read I BELONG TO BOSK.” She looked away.

She, like Cara, wore a brief, sleeveless slave tunic of white wool, her hair, too, bound back with a fillet of white wool. Her tanned body, in the white garment, was exciting. It was a better garment than she had worn when she had been free, though, of course, it was much shorter.

She wore a slave strap, a heavy strap, buckling in the back. In the front, at her belly, was fixed in the strap, a plate and ring. Through the ring passed a chain, of some five inches in length, each end of which terminated in a bracelet. Her hands were confined before her body.

Cara now, cleaned, climbed the gangplank and boarded he Tesephone.

We permitted Cara to run free. Tina, on the other hand, had been kept in the slave strap and bracelets, except when she was working in the kitchen area, cooking, and peeling suls and such. At such times a simple chain, run to her ankle, was sufficient to secure her. If we had permitted Tina to run free, as with Cara, I think she might have attempted escape. She knew the city of Lydius, and might be difficult to apprehend. I did not think she could have made good her escape, but I did not wish to lose time pursing her.

Yes, yesterday, I had sent her, in the slave strap and bracelets, for bread. I wanted to see her, for the first time, walk the wharves of Lydius, as a slave girl.

She had stolen from me.

I tied a note about her neck, reading, Two loaves of Sa-Tarna.

She had been furious.

“Open your mouth,” I told her.

She had done so.

I had placed the coin in her mouth.

“Go, Slave,” I had said to her, “Hurry.”

She had had a sly expression on her face, as she had left the ship. It was clear to me she would try to escape.

I was curious to see what would happen.

She was off the wharf to which the Tesephone was moored, I saw her cast a look over her shoulder, and begin to run between the bales and boxes near the warehouses.

But scarcely had she made five yards when a dock worker, who knew her, seized her by the arm. She struggled, futilely. From the Tesephone I watched. Another dock worker came over to see her. “It is Tina!” I heard laugh. “Tina!” cried others. Soon, she was surrounded by some nine or ten dock workers, who remembered her well. She had perhaps stolen from all of them, or taunted them. I saw one of them, the fellow who had first seized her, read the note tied on its string about her neck.

Then they parted, to let her pass, but in such a way that she must walk in one direction. Then, flanking her, and preventing her from going anywhere but where they wished, they escorted her to the shop of the bakes. Later I saw her returning. The note, on its string, was no longer about her neck. But now, about her neck, tied with the baker’s know, fastened behind the back of her neck, was a sack of two loaves of Sa-Tarna bread. She was escorted by the dock workers to the very foot of the gangplank of the Tesephone.

“Farewell, Slave!” they called.

Proudly, not looking at them, but with tears in her eyes, she climbed the gangplank.

“I have brought the bread,” she told me.

“Take it to the kitchen area,” I told her.

“Yes, Master,” she had said.

I had not seen fit again, however, to send her for bread. She now stood beside me, in the white tunic, in the slave strap, her hands braceleted to her belly. It did not seem necessary, for her instruction, to have her walk again as a slave girl in the streets of her own city. Lydius, I felt, had, however, been owed that sight. She had now had it. The girl was now mine, completely, as any other slave.

Once beyond Lydius I expected there would not be much danger of her running away.

Where was there for her to run?

In the forests there were sleen and panthers, and fierce tarsks.

And there were panther girls, too, who would be swift to pounce on an escaped slave girl.

I recalled how swiftly, how expeditiously, Elizabeth Cardwell had been taken by them, and humiliatingly exhibited, bound to a pole, at the river’s edge, where she had been purchased by Sarpedon, in whose tavern she now, for the pleasure of his customers, served as one of his paga slaves. I smiled. I corrected myself. There was no Elizabeth Cardwell serving in the paga tavern of Sarpedon of Lydius. There was, however, I recalled, a slave named Tana.

I glanced at Tina, standing beside me. She looked away. She did not care to meet my eyes.

She wore my collar. Where could she run?

She wore a brand. Where could she flee?

She could not even run to Lydius, her own city, for it was there, publicly, by judicial sentence, that the degradation of slavery, by the iron, had been burned into her body.

Even if a girl should escape one master, it is almost inevitable that she fall to the chains of another.

If not sooner, then later.

When a girl on Gor is slave, she is slave.

The penalty for attempted flight by a slave girl, for the first offense, is commonly a severe beating. The girl is, so to speak, permitted that mistake, once. If she should attempt to escape again, the master’s patience is usually less willing to be presumed upon. It is not uncommon to hamstring her. This makes her worthless, but is thought to provide an excellent lesson for other girls.

Gorean slave girls, those that are familiar with their collars, know that there is no escape for them.

They know in their hearts that they are truly slave, and will remain so, unless it might please their master to grant them freedom. It is seldom done. There is a Gorean saying that only a fool frees a slave girl.

When a girl on Gor is slave, she is truly slave. She is nothing more. She cannot be more. Most slave girls know this. All, in time, learn it.

Tina, however, was fresh to her collar. And so it was that, in Lydius, while we remained in port, I kept her in slave strap and bracelets. I did not wish to be inconvenienced by the amount of time, a day or so, it might take to have her once more in my chains.

I regarded Tina, I thought I might have use for her. She possessed skills. Moreover, she might probe valuable if I wished to recruit the help of Arn, the Outlaw, he whom she had once drugged and robbed.

“Do you remember an Outlaw,” I asked her, “Arn, by name?”

She looked at me, warily, apprehensive.

“Would you like to belong to him?” I asked.

She looked at me, with horror.

I turned away, leaving her at the rail. I was pleased at her reaction. I heard her pulling at the slave bracelets as I turned away. She might now, I speculated, be well induced to serve me with exceeding fervor and diligence, should I assign her tasks in accord with her thieving skills, for fear that she be given to the massive, handsome Arn. Moreover, I told myself, afterwards, if it seemed politic, I could always give her to him anyway. She was my slave girl, a female animal I owned, to do with as I pleased.

I heard Cara, off near the stern quarter, singing. I envied Rim his girl… But where was Rim?

It was near the ninth hour and soon, almost within an Ahn, I wished to cast off the mooring ropes. The water, many kegs, and the supplies, ranging from hard breads to slave nets, were abroad.

The morning tide from Thassa was running in, swelling the river. I wished to leave at the height of the tide. It would breast at the tenth Ahn. It was late in the summer and the river was not as high as it is in the spring. In the Laurius, and particularly near its mouth, there are likely to be shoals, shifting from day to day, brought and formed by the current. The tide from Thassa, lifting the river, makes the entrance to the Laurius less troublesome, less hazardous. The Tesephone, of course, being a light ship, an oared ship, a shallow-drafted ship, is commonly very little dependent on the tide. My men idled near the thwarts. Some slept between them. I wished them to rest now. They would have work soon enough. I looked at them. I grinned. At a cry of Thurnock such men, in an instant, would become a crew. They were of Port Kar. Where was Rim? “Captain!” called Rim, from the wharf.

I was pleased. He had returned.

“Captain!” he called. “Come here!” Then he saw Cara, who had run to the rail, having heard him. She waved delightedly. “Slave!” he called. He snapped his fingers at her, pointing to the planks of the wharf at his feet. She sped down the gangplank to kneel swiftly before him. I followed her. He lifted her to her feet and kissed her, and then made her turn her back to him. He opened a small package. It contained a very cheap, but very lovely, necklace of tiny shells, threaded on a string of leather. He held it before her eyes. “It is beautiful!” she cried. As she stood before him, her back to him, delighted, he wrapped it in and about the steel of her slave collar. “Thank you, Master,” she breathed. “It is beautiful.” He tied it at the back of her neck. Then he turned her about, and kissed her. She melted to him, her lips to his. I do not know how else to express it. I have never seen it in a free woman. I have seen it only in slave girls, at the lips of their masters. Rim did not even seem to note the tiny, delicate yellow talender in her hair. What it meant to tell him he, already knew. “Return to the ship, Slave,” said Rim. “Yes, Master!” said the girl, and fled up the gangplank.

“What have you been doing?” I asked.

“Purchasing a shaving knife,” he said. He produced another small package. “Why have you asked me to the wharf?” I inquired.

“I have something to show you,” he said, “something in which I think you will be much interested.” “We dip oars with the hour,” I told him.

“It is quite close,” said Rim, secretively. “Come with me.”

“We have little time.” I said.

“I think you will be interested, and I think you will be pleased,” said Rim, “Follow me.” Angrily, I strode behind him, following him from the wharf.

To my surprise, he led me to the wharf slave market.

“We need no more slaves,” I told him, angrily.

We entered the boarded compound. About a half inch is left between each pair of boards, that men, glancing in, might be moved to interest, but would be able to fully satisfy their curiosity only by actually stepping within. The boards are alternately painted blue and yellow, the slavers’ colors.

The compound was quite large, and there were many slaves within, mostly female. Some were chained by the neck to rings, set in the ground. We passed between, and among, cages. Others were tied or chained to poles and stakes. Some of the cages I noted, were overcrowded with fair occupants. In one of the cages I saw Tana and Ela. They shrank back against the bars. It was in this market that Thurnock had disposed of them. Along one wall, sitting, waiting for cage space, were many girls, fastened by a long chain running through ankle rings, on the left ankle of each.

“We must soon dip oars,” I told Rim, not much pleased.

“Look,” said Rim.

I grinned.

I went closer.

There was a bar set at the back of the compound, a metal bar, some two inches in width, fastened to stanchions. The bar was about four feet from the ground, and about forty feet long. There were several girls fastened to it. They had been backed against it. Then their arms had been taken behind he bar and then pulled forward, and upward, tight against it. Slave bracelets, then with about a foot of chain, had been locked on their wrists, fastening them in place. I went to one girl, who stood so secured.

She looked at me with fury.

Rim and I appraised her.

“Her breasts are a bit small,” I said.

“And her wrists and ankles,” he pointed out, “are a bit thick.”

“That,” I said, “of course, we knew before.”

“Yes,” he said.

“But note the belly,” I said. “It is not without interest.”

“And the hips,” he said, “do they not give the promise of sweetness?” “Yes,” I said, The girl struggled at the bar.

“She moves well,” said Rim.

“Yes,” I said.

The girl stopped struggling, and stood, tense, at the bar, she knees bent. Regarding us with fury. She pulled against the slave bracelets. I could see, when the chain moved, its print on her body, where it had lain before. It was tight.

“Greetings,” said I.

I regarded the golden chains and claws, still at her throat. I noted that, about her left ankle, there was still the anklet of threaded shells.

She looked at us, in rage.

“So you perhaps have some more men to sell us?” I asked.

She went wild, jerking and moaning, pulling at the chain. Then she subsided. She looked at us, sullenly.

“Greetings, Sheera,” said I.

“Do you like her?” asked a voice. It was one of the slaver’s men.

“She is not bad,” I said.

“A panther girl,” he said, “as you may have guessed. She was brought in but last night, in the darkness.” I smiled. This meant that probably she had fallen to an outlaw. Such often bring their captures to a market late, after dark. They are then less likely to be recognized.

“An outlaw brought her in?” asked Rim.

“Yes,” said the man.

“His name?” I asked.

“Arn,” said the man.

Sheera pulled again at her slave bracelets, helplessly.

Rim and I laughed.

We were pleased that Arn, whom we knew, had taken her.

“I did not know that a panther girl could fall to an outlaw,” said Rim. “Especially,” I added, “a panther girl such as this one.” She jerked at the bracelets. Then she turned her head away, in fury. “Would you care to taste her lips?” asked the man.

“Very well,” said Rim. He held her hair in his hands, and forced his lips to hers, for a long Ehn.

I, following Rim, took her in my arms and, forcing her back over the bar, for more than an Ehn raped the proud lips of the chained woman.

Then we observed her. Outraged, chained, she regarded us.

“We must dip oars soon,” said Rim.

Sheera, her head down, her hair now forward, was fighting the chain and slave bracelets.

I watched her. She knew the forests. She was a panther girl.

“Girl,” I said.

Sheera lifted her head. In her eyes I saw that she had not forgotten my kiss. “Is it true, Girl,” I asked, “that you are the enemy of Verna, the panther girl?” “Yes,” she said, sullenly. “She once stole two men from me,” “I will give you ten copper pieces for her,” I told the man.

Sheera looked at me, in fury.

“Her price,” he said, “is four gold pieces.”

“Too high for her,” I said.

I knew she had been purchased from an outlaw, from Arn. Outlaws seldom command, from professional slaves, the prices which others might. The house, if one may so speak of the compound at Lydius, had probably not paid more than two tarsks for her.

“I will give you four tarsks,” I said.

“In Ar,” said the man, “ she would go for ten gold pieces.”

“We are not in Ar,” I pointed out.

“I hate you!” screamed Sheera. “I hate you! I hate you!”

“Her breasts,” I said, “ are a bit small, and her ankles and wrists are too thick,” “She is a beauty,” said the man.

We examined her, carefully. She turned her head to one side.

“She is a raw girl,” I said, “nor broken to a collar, untrained.”

“We must dip oars soon,” Rim said.

“That is true,” I agreed. I did not wish to miss the crest of the tide. Rim and I made as though to turn away.

“Wait, Masters,” said the man. “She is a beauty!” we turned again, and, for some time, looked closely upon the proud Sheera. “Three pieces of gold,” said, “and five tarsks.” “She is yours,” said the man.

He, with a key at his belt, unsnapped her bracelets and turned her about, rudely, and pushed her belly against the bar. “Put your hands behind your back, and cross your wrists,” he said to the girl, not pleasantly. Sullenly, she did so. Rim, with his belt, then lashed her hands behind her back.

I paid the man his three gold pieces and his five tarsks. He was not too pleased. He waved his hand at the girls, sitting against the board fence. “We need cage space,” he said, angrily. “Take her.” Rim seized her by the arm, and pushed her ahead of us, stumbling, out of the compound.

When we reached the Tesephone, less than a hundred yards from the slave market, the tide was at a knife’s edge of its crest.

On the deck Sheera stood, her feet widely apart, to face me.

I had no time for her. I must attend to the ship. “Take her below,” I said, “and chain her in the first hold.” Rim pulled her rudely below.

Thurnock brought to me the wind and oil, and the salt. I stood at the rail. My men stood.

In a moment, Rim was again on deck, and he, too, stood watching.

To one side, two girls, Cara and Tina stood, both in their brief woolen slave garments. Tina’s hands at her belly, where they were still confined by the slave strap and bracelets.

“Ta-Sardar-Gor. Ta-Thassa,” said I, in Gorean. “To the Priest-Kings of Gor, and to the Sea.” Then, slowly, I poured the wine, and the oil into the sea, and the salt. “Cast off!” cried Thurnock. Men on the dock threw off the lines which had been looped on the mooring cleats. Two men at the bow thrust against the wharf with their poles.

The wharf, as though it, and not we, were moving, dropped back from us. “Out oars!” called Thurnock. “Ready oars!” seamen began to pull on the yard ropes to raise the yard.

The helmsman leaned on the great helm.

I saw Cara and Tina watching. The docks were filled with men. Several had paused in their work, to watch the Tesephone moving away from the wharf.

“Port oars! Stroke!” called Thurnock.

The bow of the Tesephone swung upriver. The carved, painted wooden eyes on the tarnshead turned towards Laura.

Men were aloft on the long, sloping yard. Then the sail fell, snapping and tugging, and took its shape, billowing before the gentle wind from Thassa. “Full oars!” called Thurnock. “Quarter beat! Stroke!” The Tesephone began to move upriver.

I saw Cara and Tina standing by the rail. Cara was lifting her hands, and waving toward Lydius. Some men on the dock, small now, too, lifted their hands. Tina could not lift her hands to bid city farewell, for her wrists were locked in slave bracelets, fastened at her belly, strung through the ring of a slave strap.

I stepped behind her and unbuckled the slave strap.

She looked up at me.

She turned away from me and toward Lydius. Piteously she lifted her two hands, still braceleted, in salute to Lydius.

When she had done so, I again, from behind, pulled her hands to her belly, and buckled the slave strap behind her back. She fell to her knees on the deck, heard down, hair falling forward, revealing the collar at her neck, and wept. “Stroke!” called Thurnock, in his rhythm. “Stroke!” I strode to the stern castle and, with a builder’s glass, looked back toward Lydius. I noted, to my interest, the large, yellow medium galley from Tyros, too, was casting off. I thought little of this at the time.