Hunters of Gor

6 I Hold Converse with Panther Girls and am Entertained by Sheera

On the evening of the second day out of Lydius I took a tiny lamp and went to the first hold, where many supplies are kept.

I lifted the lamp.

Sheera knelt there. She did not sit cross-legged. She knelt as a Gorean woman. A heavy chain, about a yard long, padlocked about her throat, dangled to a ring, where it was secured with a second padlock.

With her hands she covered herself, as best she could.

“Do not cover yourself,” I said. She was captive.

She lowered her hands.

I saw that there was a pan of water within her reach and, on the planking of the hold deck, some pieces of bread and a vegetable.

She looked at me.

I did not speak further to her but turned and, bent over under the low ceiling, left her, taking with me the tiny lamp.

She did not speak.

On the next morning I had her branded in the hold.

The Tesephone continued to move slowly upriver, between the banks of the Laurius, the fields to the south, the forests to the north.

I removed the slave strap and bracelets from Tina. She stretched and ran like an exultant little animal on the deck. Cara laughed at her.

She ran to the rail and looked over the side. Following in the wake of the Tesephone, to pick up litter or garbage thrown overboard, were long-bodied river sharks, their bodies sinuous in the half-clear water, about a foot below the surface.

Tina turned about and looked at me, agony on her face.

Then she lifted her eyes to the forests beyond. We heard, as is not uncommon, the screams of forest panthers within the darkness of the trees.

I went to stand beside her.

“Your best gamble,” I informed her, “would be to flee to the south, but there is little cover.” “In your slave tunic, with your brand and collar,” I said, “how long do you think it would be before you were picked up?” She put her head down.

“It is not pleasant, I expect,” I said, “to belong to peasants.”

She looked at me with horror, and then again turned to the forests on the north. “If you feel to the panther girls,” I asked, “ what do you surmise would be your fate?” inadvertently her hand touched the brand beneath her while woolen slave tunic. Then, standing beside me at the rail, looking toward the forest, she put both her hands on her collar. She tried to pull it from her neck.

She knew as well as I the contempt in which panther girls held female slaves. She, Tina, was well marked.

She was well marked as what she was, a female slave.

“If they did not use you as their slave themselves,” I said, “you would be soon sold.” Tina, the slave, wept. I turned and left her.

Cara, in her own collar, went to comfort her.

That night I went again to the hold, to once again look upon Sheera. She had now been branded.

I lifted the lamp, to better regard her.

The brand was an excellent one.

She knelt, chained to the ring. She did not attempt to cover herself. “Why did you buy me?” “Come to my arms,” I said.

“No!” she said, “No!”

“Come to my arms,” I said.

She lifted her arms to me.

The next night, I again looked upon Sheera. Without speaking, she opened her arms, and sought me, pressing her body, kneeling, to mine, her lips to mine. The following night, the night before we would make landfall in Laura, when I had finished with her, she lay on her belly on the planks, her head in her hands, lifted, on her elbows. Her hair was forward. She was breathing deeply. Even in the flickering light I could see the beautiful mottlings on her body, on the sides of her breasts and body, red and white, still rich and subtle in her hot, blood-charged skin. The chain dangled to the floor, where it lay, half coiled near the ring. The fruit of her body hung free, and lovely. The nipples were still arch.

She turned her head toward me, and looked at me, through her hair, with glazed eyes.

She put her head down.

I knelt behind her, and above her, on one knee, and, with a snap, fastened the slave collar on her throat.

She did not protest. She knew that she had yielded to me, as a slave girl to her master.

I took her by the shoulders, and turned her on her back. her entire belly and breasts, like much the rest of her body, was rich with the beautiful mottlings. I touched the nipples. How beautiful there were, large, delicate, sensitive now, almost painfully swollen with blood. I kissed them. She reached for me again, lifting her head, the chain at her neck, lips parted.

When I again noted the lamp, it had burned low.

I rose to my knees, and looked down upon her. I saw my collar locked at her throat.

“Greetings, Slave,” I said.

She looked up at me.

“Tomorrow,” I said, “we make landfall in Laura. I will then release you from the hold.” I bent to her throat, there was still fastened the golden chains and claws that she had worn when she had met us, long ago, at the exchange point, which she had worn when she had been purchased, which she had worn in the hold. I removed the chains and claws. She did not protest. Then I bent to her left ankle and removed the anklet of threaded shells. She did not protest. She was no longer a panther girl.

“When I release you tomorrow from the hold,” I asked, “which garment shall I bring you?” She turned her head to one side. “The garment of a female slave,” she said. Rim and I, and Thurnock, moored at Laura, in the stern castle, studied a rough map of the territory north and east of that rustic town.

On the map, as nearly as we could, we traced, with various straight lines, what we would take to be the path to Verna’s camp and dancing circle.

“Somewhere in here, I said, pointing with a stylus, “they must lie.” “why not follow the tree blazings, and such?” asked Thurnock.

“If the girls Tana and Ela knew so well the route to the camp and circle,” said Rim, “others, too, must know of it.” “Further,” I said, “it is my understanding that Verna expects Marlenus of Ar to pursue her. It is doubtless important to her that he do so, to accord with her plans, those plans by means of which she hopes to take vengeance upon him for her former capture and humiliation.” I looked at Thurnock. “It is quite possible,” I said, “that she would even permit such information to fall into his hands.” “That she might know his approach route, and perhaps ambush him,” said Rim, running his tongue over his lips.

“Yes,” I said.

“We would not care,” said Rim, “to fall into her trap.”

“But Marlenus,” said Thurnock, “He is a great Ubar. Surely he will be wary?” “Marlenus,” I said, “is a great Ubar, but he is not always wise.” “Marlenus,” said Rim, “doubtless believes himself to be the hunter. He expects panther girls to feel from him and his men. He expects difficulty only in managing their capture.” “The tabuk he expects to net,” I said, “are not unlikely panthers, she-panthers, following him, intent upon their own hunt.” “Aiii,” said Thurnock.

“Yes,” I said.

“On the other hand,” said Rim, “Verna does not know of us. We have with us the element of surprise.” “I do wish,” I said, “to approach the camp from some direction other than the blazed trail. On the other hand, I am not interested in storming it with slave nets.” “Do you expect to deal with panther girls?” he asked, smiling.

I put down the stylus on the map. “I am a merchant,” I said.

“How shall we proceed?” asked Thurnock.

“We shall make a base camp, in accord with our putative interest in obtaining the skins of sleen,” I said. “Then, selected men will enter the forest, but as though they did not know the location of Verna’s camp and dancing circle. We must then make contact with some members of her band. Either they will contact us, or we them.” “It is not uncommon for panther girls to first make contact,” said Rim, smiling, “with a hunting arrow in the back.” “We shall release, suitably braceleted, a slave girl, to make contact with them.” “They will hunt her, and capture her,” said Rim, smiling.

“Of course,” I said.

“Then the girl,” said Rim, “will give them our message, that we would negotiate for female slaves they may have in their camps.” “What girl, braceleted, could live in the forests?” asked Thurnock. “No girl, braceleted,” I said, “can live long in the forests. That will be an incentive to the girl we release to see that she swiftly falls to Verna’s band.” “Yes,” said Rim, “and if she fails to find Verna’s band, she, braceleted, will be forced to return to us.” “Yes,” said Thurnock.

“But I expect,” I said, “that she will have little difficulty in falling in with Verna’s band.” “You have in mind a skilled girl,” said Thurnock, “one experienced in the way of the forests.” “Yes,” I said.

“But,” said Thurnock, troubled, “have you considered that they, the panther women of Verna’s band, might keep the girl we have released?” “I have considered that,” I said.

Thurnock looked at me, puzzled.

“Suppose,” said I, “that the girl released, she who is captured by Verna’s band, is well know to Verna. Suppose that that girl were a rival to Verna, a personal enemy, one of long standing.” Rim laughed.

“What then,” asked I, of Thurnock,” do you suppose Verna, and her band, would do with her?” “I see,” said Thurnock, grinning.

“She would be promptly returned to slavery,” said Rim.

“And,” said I, smiling, “we would have made contact with Verna’s band, and we would get our girl back.” Thurnock grinned. “But what girl could we use?” he asked.

“Sheera,” said I.

Thurnock nodded, and Rim laughed.

“I thought,” said I, “that it would not be impossible that I might find use for that piece of property.” “I gather,” said Rim, “that you have already found uses for that bit of property, in the hold.” “Yes,” I said, “but that is unimportant.” She was only a slave.

“One thing troubles me,” said Rim. “Verna has taken Talena to the forests, to bait a trap for Marlenus. Why then should she sell her to you?” “That may be a matter of timing,” I said, “and of information, and prices.” “How is that?” asked Rim.

I shrugged. “Suppose Marlenus falls to Verna,” I suggested. “Then she would not need the bait longer, and might, for a good price, dispose of it.” “Marlenus? Fall to Verna?” asked Thurnock.

“Panther girls are dangerous,” I said. “I do not think Marlenus, who is a proud man, well understands that.” I looked at Thurnock. “But,” said I, “ the important thing to Verna’s plan is that Marlenus believe she holds Talena. As long as he believes that, it does not make a difference whether she does, or not. So, why might she not, provided the sale is secret, sell Talena to me, regardless of the outcome of her pursuit of Marlenus?” “Perhaps she would fear you would simply, for gold, return Talena to Marlenus,” said Thurnock.

“We shall convince her, “ I said, “ that we are of Tabor.”

Tabor, though a free island, administered by merchants, would not be eager to affront Tyros, her powerful neighbor. For more than a century there had been bad blood between Tyros and Ar. A merchant of Tabor, accordingly, fearing Tyros, would not be likely to return Talena to Marlenus. Such an act might mean war. It would be far more likely that the girl would be presented to Tyros, the daughter of their enemy, naked and in chains of a slave, as a token of good will. The bad blood between Tyros and Ar had primarily to do with Tyros’ financings of Vosk pirates, to harry river shipping and the northern borders of Ar. Vosk pirates now little bothered the realm of Ar, but the memories remained. Vosk traffic, to Ar, which has no sea port, is important. It permits her much wider trade perimeters than would otherwise be possible. Something similar is true of the Cartius, far to her south. Unfortunately for Ar, or perhaps fortunately for the maritime powers of Thassa, it is almost impossible to bring a large ship or barge through the Vosk’s delta to the sea. Ar remains substantially a land power, but the river traffic, on the Vosk and, to the south, on the Cartius, is important to her. Tyros’ financing of Vosk pirates, over the past century, was an attempt to deprive Ar of the Vosk markets, and make those markets more dependent on overland shipments of goods, originally debarked at shore ports, brought to them by the cargo ships of Tyros, and other maritime powers. “What if you do not convince her?” asked Rim, “that you are of Tabor?” I shrugged. “If the price is high enough,” I suggested, “Verna may not much care whether we are of Tabor or not.” “What, however,” asked Rim, “if she does not chose to sell?” Rim was standing at the window of the stern castle, looking out.

“Then,” said I, “we shall have no choice but to take Talena by force.” “What if there is an objection,” inquired Rim, “raised on the part of Verna, and her panther girls?” “We have more than enough slave chains for Verna and her entire band,” I said. Rim was still peering out the window of the stern castle. Then he said, “It is the Rhoda of Tyros.” I went to the window, Thurnock pressed beside me.

Turning slowly, sweetly, into the wharves of Laura was the heavy-beamed, large medium galley, bright with the yellow of Tyros. I saw her yard being lowered, its sail left slack, to be removed from the yard and folded. On her deck I could see springals and catapults. Her crew moved efficiently. I heard the beat, over the water, of the copper-covered drum of the keleustes, marking the time for the oars.

It was the ship from Tyros which had been moored near the Tesephone in Lydius, the same which had cast off, following the departure of the Tesephone from Lydius.

It would have been difficult to bring such a ship this far on the river. Twice in the Tesephone’s own journey upriver, even with her shallow draft, we had gently ran aground and must needs use the poles to free ourselves. I was interested that her captain had brought such a ship to Laura. It was, on the wharves, attracting attention. The only craft commonly seen in Laura were light galleys, and the ubiquitous barges, towed by tharlarion treading along the shore.

“What business has such a ship in Laura?” I asked Rim.

“I do not know,” he said.

“It is not impossible,” said Thurnock, “they are concerned with common trade, panther hides and sleen furs, and such.” “No,” I said, “it is not impossible.” We could now see the crew of the Rhoda casting lines to the men at the wharf. She would soon be moored.

“Tyros,” said I, “is enemy of Ar. Should Marlenus fall to Verna and her band, Tyros might be much interested in his acquisition.” It was perhaps for such a reason that the Rhoda had come upriver to Laura. It would be quite a coup for Tyros, I surmised, did the great Ubar fall into their hands.

“Perhaps they are not interested in Marlenus,” said Rim, looking at me. I regarded him, puzzled.

“Who knows,” he asked, “what may happen in the forests?”

“What shall we do, Captain?” asked Thurnock.

“We shall proceed with our plans,” I said.

“You know what you are to do?” I asked Sheera.

“Yes,” she said, standing before me, deep with the forests.

In the brief sleeveless garment of white wool, my collar at her throat, her hair bound back by a fillet of white wool, she might have been any slave girl. “Extend your wrists,” I said.

“You’re not going to bracelet me!” she cried.

If I did so, she would be almost helpless in the forests.

“No!” she cried.

I snapped the bracelets on her. Her wrists were confined some four inches apart. It would be difficult for her to run, almost impossible to climb.

“Do I mean nothing to you?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“The hold,” she protested.

“It mean nothing,” I told her.

She put her head down, a braceleted slave girl.

Rim and Thurnock were with me, and five men. We had come deep into the forests. We had brought with us a pack of trade goods, some gold. The pack, and gold, was now flung to one side. Before that it had been strapped to Sheera’s back. We would now make camp, putting sharpened stakes about our camp, to protect us from animals, and the nocturnal attacks of panther girls.

Sheera lifted her eyes. “They may simply slay me,” she said.

“Panther girls,” said I, “are not likely to slay a braceleted slave.” “I am Sheera,” said the girl, suddenly, proudly. “I am the enemy of Verna. If she captures me, she may slay me.” “You are Sheera,” I said. “If you captured Verna, branded and collared, what would you do with her?” she looked at me, angrily. “I would return her to slaver,” she said, “and promptly.” “Precisely,” said I.

“What if I do not fall in with her?” asked Sheera.

I held the chain joining the slave bracelets. I shook it, that she might well feel the steel retainers on her wrists.

“Then,” I said, “I expect you will fall in with sleen, or forest panthers.” She looked at me, with horror.

“Permit me to start now,” she said.

I looked at the sun, and then away. “It is a bit early,” I said, “for a slave girl to escape.” “But the sleen,” she said, “the panthers!” “Kneel, and wait,” I said.

She knelt, braceleted.

I did not expect it would take long for Verna’s girls to pick her up. We had made no effort to conceal our movements, or trail. I suspected that, already, they were aware of our presence in the forests. I had seen, an Ahn earlier, before we had reached this camp site, a tawny movement in the brush, some fifty yards in front of us, and to our left. I did not think that it was a forest panther.

The men were cutting and sharpening stakes, and setting them in the ground, about our camp site.

I looked at Sheera, kneeling in the bracelets.

Then I sat down, cross-legged, and withdrew an arrow, for the great bow, from its quiver and, with thread and a tiny pot of glue, bent to refreshing one of the shafts.

Above Laura, north of her, there lie several slave compounds. It had taken the better part of the morning, but Rim and I, and Thurnock, had found the blazed tree, blazed with a spear point, several feet high on the trunk. We had then found the next tree, to establish the line. We had marked the points and line on our map. On the map, later, in the stern castle, we had traced out, with greater accuracy than had hitherto had been possible, following the directions of Tana and Ela, what should be the location of Verna’s camp and dancing circle. Our original estimate, we were pleased to note, was not grossly inaccurate. We would, of course, as before, if the need arose, not approach the camp by the familiar route. If it should prove necessary to storm the camp with slave nets, we would do so after a secret approach, striking decisively, and fiercely from an unexpected direction.

Things were going well.

I thought of the slave girl, Tana, paga slave in the tavern of Sarpedon of Lydius. I wondered how she would relish her new duties. I wondered if Sarpedon would have beaten her, for concealing from him her skills. It was quite probable. She would look well, when not carrying paga, dancing in the sand. A slave girl is not permitted to conceal her skill as a dancer from Sarpedon, her master. Yes, she would have been beaten. Then, that night, as Sarpedon had promised, she would dance.

As she danced, I trusted that she would think of me.

She had made her decision. It had been a brave decision. But it had not been a decision without its risks. She had gambled. She had lost.

I thought, too, of Telima. She, too, had made her decision. Let her remain, if she wished, in her beloved marshes.

I sought Talena.

I smiled.

Talena was not a simple paga slave, as was Tana. Talena was not a simple rence girl, indigenous to the marches, as was Telima. Talena was the daughter of a Ubar!

It was not simply that Tana was beneath me, a rich man, Bosk, admiral in Port Kar. She, slave, was beneath any free man. She was only kept alive for one purpose, to serve such men, and be pleasing to them. And Telima, though she was very beautiful, was a rence girl. She was of low caste. She was scarcely fit consort for one of my position. But Talena, she was the daughter of a Ubar. She might, with fitness, sit by my side.

She would be acceptable.

I mused.

In time, I might become first captain in the Council of Captains. And who knew what political occurrences might take place in Port Kar? I was popular in the city. Perhaps in time there would be a Ubar in Port Kar.

At my side Talena would be the most beautiful, the richest and the most powerful woman on Gor.

I finished with the arrow on which I was working.

I would rescue her.

We would repledge our companionship. And who knew to what heights I might raise the chair of Bosk? Indeed, with Talena at my side, the daughter of the great Ubar of Ar, my fortunes, in many matters, might be much improved. The companionship would be an advantageous one. She, by virtue of her influences and associations, could bring me much. Who knew to what heights, in time, might be raised the chair of Vosk? Perhaps, in time, it might stand as high, or higher, than the throne of Ar? And might there not come to be, in time, an alliance of Gor’s greatest sea power and her greatest land power, and, perhaps, in time, but one throne?

We would make a splendid and powerful couple, the envy of Gor, Bosk, the great Bosk, and Talena, the beautiful Talena, daughter of a great Ubar, his consort. I rose to my feet, the arrow well refeathered, and set it to one side, across two rocks. In the morning it would be dry and I would replace it in the quiver. I looked at Sheera.

The shadows were longer. It was late in the afternoon. She looked at me. I turned away from her.

It was not yet time for a slave girl to escape.

Things were going well.

I went to inspect the work of the men, setting the sharpened stakes about the camp.

We had made one alteration in our original planes, an alteration to take into account the arrival in Laura of the Rhoda of Tyros.

We had taken the Tesephone from the wharves of Laura, and ascended the river some twenty pasangs. It was there, on the north bank, that we made our camp. Above Laura the river is less navigable than below, particularly in the late summer. The Rhoda, though a shallow drafted galley, was still considerably deeper keeled than the Tesephone. Moreover, it was a much longer ship. The Rhoda would be unable to follow us to our camp. Furthermore, I would post guards, downriver, to warn us of any approach, say, by longboats, from Laura. I had also pointed guards about the camp, in case, as was unlikely, there should be an attempt to make an approach through the forests.

I suspected that these precautions were unnecessary, but I saw fit to decree them nonetheless.

Furthermore, the camp above Laura, on the north bank of the Laurius, provided us with privacy for our business. We might be simply, as far as those in Laura knew, attempting to achieve better prices on sleen fur by establishing this camp. Such things were sometimes done. No one in Laura need know the true object of our expedition.

The riverside camp was not untypical of a semipermanent Gorean naval camp. The Tesephone had been beached, and lay partly on her side, thus permitting scraping, recalking and resealing of the hull timber, first on one side and then, later, when turned, on the other. These repairs would be made partly from stores carried on board, partly from stores purchased in Laura. There would also, of course, be much attention given to the deadwork of the ship, and to her lines and rigging, and the fittings and oars. Meanwhile, portions of the crew not engaged in such labors, would be carrying stones from the shore and cutting saplings in the forest, to build the narrow rectangular wall which shields such camps. Cooking, and most living, is done within the camp, within the wall and at the side of the Tesephone. The wall is open, of course, to the water. Canvas sheets, like rough awnings on stakes, are tied to the Tesephone, and these provide shade from the sun and protection in the case of rain.

I was fond of my crew. I would have girls, paga slaves, brought up for them from Laura.

“How goes the work?” I asked Thurnock.

“It goes well,” said he, “my captain.”

The men would soon be finished.

The camp of Marlenus, the great Ubar of Ar, I had learned was somewhere within the forest, north or northwest of Laura. It was quite possibly the same camp he had used several months ago, when, as recreation from the duties of the Ubar, he had gone hunting in the northern forests, a sporting trip in which he had captured a large number of animals, and, as well, Verna, a famed outlaw woman, and her entire band.

Marlenus, I was certain, would be overconfident.

Verna, I was certain, would not be so easily taken a second time.

“Another two stakes, and we are done,” said Thurnock.

I looked at the sun, it was now low, behind the trees, well below them. In half an Ahn, it would be dusk.

It was now time for a slave girl to escape.

I looked at Sheera. “On your feet, Slave Girl,” I said.

She stood up, her wrists braceleted before her body. She faced me. She wore the brief, sleeveless garment of white wool, her dark hair back by the fillet of white wool. She was barefoot. My collar was at her throat.

I realized, suddenly with a start, that she was a quite beautiful woman. She regarded me.

Her fists were clenched in the slave bracelets. The short chain, joining the bracelets, was taut.

“Is this why you purchased me?’ she asked.

“Yes,” I said.

She turned quickly, wrists braceleted, and slipped between two stakes, where Thurnock had not yet closed the defenses of the camp. She sped swiftly into the forest.

It was in her best interest, braceleted, to fall swiftly into the hands of Verna’s band. Within the Ahn, hungry, nocturnal sleen would slip from their burrows to hunt.

“What shall we do now, Captain,” asked Thurnock. He had finished closing the wall, setting the two stakes, sharpened, inclined toward the forests, into place.

“We shall cook some food,” I said, “and we shall eat, and we shall wait.” About the twentieth Ahn, the Gorean midnight, we heard a sound, beyond our defensive perimeter.

“Do not put out the fire,” I told my men, “but stay back from it.”

That we kept the fire burning would indicate that our intentions were not hostile, and that we wished to make contact.

We remained back from the fire to make it more difficult for the panther girls, were it their intention, to slay us from the darkness with arrows.

But that was not their intention. Had it been I do not believe we would have heard the sound we did.

It had been the breaking of a branch, to alert us, to permit them to see what our response would be.

But the fire was not covered.

I stood near the fire, and lifted my arms, that they might see I held no weapons.

“I am Bosk, of the Free Island of tabor,” said I. “I am a merchant. I would hold converse with you.” There was only silence.

“We have trade goods,” I said.

From the darkness, beyond the perimeter, there stepped forth a woman, boldly. She carried a bow. She wore the skins of panthers.

“Build up your fire,” she commanded.

“Do so,” said I to Thurnock.

Reluctantly Thurnock heaped more wood on the fire, until the interior of the perimeter was well illuminated in the darkness.

We could not see beyond the fire.

“Keep the fire high,” said the woman.

“Keep it high,” said I to Thurnock.

Each of us, now within the defensive perimeter, between the stakes, was an easy mark.

“Remove your sword belts and weapons,” said the woman. I dropped my belt, with sword and sheath, and knife, to the ground, beside the fire. My men, at my signal, did likewise.

“Excellent,” said the woman, from the other side of the stakes.

She looked at us. In the light from the recently built-up fire I could see her more clearly. I saw the brief skins, the bow. She had a golden armlet on her left arm, a golden anklet on her right ankle.

She was truly a panther girl.

“You are surrounded,” she said.

“Of course,” I said.

“You understand,” she asked, “that you might be now, should it please us, taken slave?” “Yes,” I said.

“Of what would you hold converse?” she asked.

“Let us speak,” I said.

“Remove some of the stakes,” she said, “and we will speak.”

I gestured to Thurnock.:Remove four stakes,” I said. Reluctantly the peasant giant did so.

The panther girl, her head high, strode into the camp. She looked about herself. Her eyes were strong, and fearless. With her foot she kicked the dropped weapons closer the fire, away from my men.

“Sit,” she said to them, indicating a place near the back of the wall of stakes, “and face the fire.” I indicated they should comply with her direction.

“More closely together,” she said.

I again indicated that they should comply with her directive.

She had had them face the fire, that their eyes might not quickly adapt to night vision. If the fire were suddenly extinguished they would, for an Ehn, for all practical purposes, be blind, at the mercy of the panther girls. They had been told to sit together that an arrow loosed into their midst could not but find a target.

The girl now sat down across from me, cross-legged, near the fire.

There was another sound from beyond the perimeter. I saw something white move in the darkness, stumbling between two panther girls.

A panther girl holding each arm, she was thrust into the camp. She was still braceleted, of course, but now her hands, in the bracelets, with binding fiber, had been tied close to her belly. Her brief white garment had been torn to her waist. The fillet was gone from her hair. Sheera was thrust forward, and forced to her knees, head down, by the fire. She had been much switched.

“We encountered this strayed slave,” said the girl.

“She is mine,” I said.

“Do you know who she was?” asked the girl.

I shrugged.:A slave,” I said.

There was laughter from girls beyond the perimeter, in the darkness. Sheera lowered her head still more.

“She was once a panther girl,” said the girl.:She was once Sheera, the panther girl.” “Oh,” I said.

The girl laughed. “She was a great rival to Verna. Verna now takes pleasure in returning her to you.” The girl looked at Sheera. “You wear a collar well, Sheera,” said she.

Sheera looked at her, her eyes glazed in pain.

“This merchant,” said the girl, “tells us that you are his slave. Is that true?” She looked at her, in fury.

“Speak, Slave,” said the girl.

“Yes,” said Sheera, “he is my master.”

The girl laughed, and so, too, did the others. Then the girl looked at me, and nodded at Sheera. “Is she any good?” she asked.

I looked at Sheera. “Yes,” I said, “she is quite good.”

Sheera looked away, in fury, and put down her head. There was much laughter from the girls.

“We will take four arrow points for her,” said the girl, “for returning her to you.” “Your fee is quite reasonable,” I remarked.

“More than enough,” said the girl, “for a cheap girl.”

Sheera’s fists were clenched. Then she put her head down, and wept, a slave. I indicated that one of the girl’s companions might remove four arrow points from the pack of trade goods. She did remove four, just four, and no more. “So you are Verna?” I asked the girl “No,” she said.

I looked disappointed.

She regarded me warily. “You seek Verna?” she asked.

“I have come far,” I admitted, to do business with her.” I looked at the girl, not much pleased. “I had understood that this was the territory ranged by Verna and her band.” “I am of the band of Verna,” said the girl.

“Good,” I said. I was now more pleased.

The girl facing me was blond, and blue-eyed, like many panther girls. She was lovely, but cruel looking. She was not particularly tall.

For some reason, I found myself not displeased that this woman was not Verna. “I am Bosk, of Tabor,” I said.

“I am Mira,” she said.

“Do you come from Verna?” I asked. “Can you speak for her?”

“Yes,” she said. “For whom do you speak?”

“For myself,” I said.

“That is interesting,” she said. Then she mused, “Verna told us that Marlenus of Ar would not approach us as you have done, and that he would not use a merchant to do his business for him.” I shrugged. “She is probably right,” I said. Marlenus, with men, would hunt the forests. He would not be likely to address himself to a panther girl unless she was stripped and knelt before him in slave chains.

“Do you know Marlenus is in the forest?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, “I have heard that.”

“Do you know the location of his camp?” she asked.

“No,” I said, “other than the fact that it is said to be somewhere north or northeast of Laura.” “We know where it is” said Mira.

“I am interested in obtaining,” I said, “a woman, who is rumored to be a prisoner in Verna’s camp.” “A slave?’ smiled Mira.

“Perhaps,” I said. “She is said to be dark haired, very beautiful.” “You speak of Talena,” smiled Mira, the daughter of Marlenus of Ar.” “Yes,” I said. “Is she in your camp?” “Perhaps,” said Mira. “Perhaps not.” “I am prepared to offer much,” I told her. “I am prepared to offer weights in gold.” The weight is ten Gorean stone. A Gorean stone is approximately four pounds in weight.

“If you obtained her,” said Mira, “would you sell her back to Marlenus of Ar, for even more?” “It is not my intention,” I said, “to take a profit on her.” Mira stood up. I, too, stood up.

“Tens of weights of gold,” I said to Mira.

But I looked into her eyes, I realized that Talena was not for sale. “Is the girl in your camp?” I asked.

“Perhaps,” said Mira, “Perhaps not.”

“Set a price on her,” I said.

“These woods,” said Mira, “belong to panther girls. In the morning, Merchant, leave them.” I faced her.

“It is well for you,” said the girl, lifting the four arrow points she had received for the return of Sheera, “that e have done business.” I nodded, understanding her.

She looked at my men, as a man might have looked upon women. “Some of these men,” she said, “seem interesting. They are strong and handsome. They would look well in the chains of slaves.” She strode to the opening in the stakes, and there turned, again to face me. “Be warned,” said she. “These are the forests of panther girls. Leave them!” “I understand,” I said.

“And, Merchant,” said she, “do not seek hereafter to mix in the affairs of Verna and Marlenus.” “I understand,” I said.

The girl turned and, swiftly, disappeared in the shadows, the others disappearing with her.

My men leaped to their feet and seized their weapons.

I went to Sheera, and lifted her head. “Did you see Verna?” I asked her. “Yes,” she said.

“Were you at the camp?” I asked.

“No,” she said.

“Do they hold Talena?” I demanded. I held her cruelly by the shoulders. “I do not know,” she said.

I released her.

“Did Verna give you any message for me?” I asked.

“It is unimportant,” she said.

“What was it?” I asked.

“It concerns me,” said Sheera, head down.

“What was the message?” I asked.

“I am to say it to you,” whispered Sheera.

“Say it,” said I.

“Teach me slavery,” whispered Sheera. Then she put her head down.

I thrust her aside with my foot, furious. “Thurnock,” said I, “replace the stakes.” The peasant giant did so.

I looked into the darkness of the forests. We would indeed leave the forests, and by noon of the morrow.

But we would come back.

I had given Verna, and her band, her chance.

I unsnapped the slave bracelets from Sheera.

“Cara,” said I, “see that this girl is taught the duties of a female slave.” “Yes, Master,” said Cara. She led Sheera away. Sheera looked at me, over her shoulder.

She would be taught to cook, to sew, to iron and wash clothing.

The former panther girl would learn to perform well the menial tasks of the female slave.

She would find Cara a helpful but exacting teacher.

We had been welcomed by my men. We had returned to the camp by the river but within the Ahn. My first task had been to see to the Tesephone. The work was going well.

In my absence, some hunters and outlaws had brought sleen fur to trade. We had given them good prices, in gold or goods. As far as those in Laura knew, or those in the forests, with the exception of the panther girls of Verna’s band, we were what we seemed, traders in fur and sleen.

I was not dissatisfied.

“Look,” said Rim. “The little she-sleen!”

I observed Tina, carrying a pitcher of water to two of the men working at the side of the Tesephone.

Her feet sank to her ankles in the sand. I noted that she had, with a light cord, belted her brief woolen slave tunic. I smiled.

Rim and I approached her. She turned about, startled, and looked up at us. “Masters?” she asked.

“Raise you arms over your head,” I said.

Apprehensive, she did so. The men watched, curious.

The cord belt she wore, drawing the brief tunic tight about her, dramatized the small, sweet delights of her body.

But we suspected that that was not the reason the little she-sleen wore the belt as she did.

Rim tugged the knot loose.

From the garment, to the sand about her ankles, there fell several small Gorean plums, a small larma fruit and two silver tarsks.

“Pretty little thief,” said Rim.

“My father was a thief!” she cried. “And his father!”

Several men had gathered around. “I am missing two silver tarsks,” said one. He retrieved his tarsks from the sand.

The girl was now frightened. Thievery on Gor is not much approved.

She attempted to run but one of my men seized her by the arm, and flung her back before us.

“Where is your cache?” I asked.

She looked at me, and from face to face. Then again she looked at me. “I have no cache,” she whispered.

“You have ten Ihn,” I told her,to show us where it is.”

“I have no cache!” she cried.

“One,” I said.

“I have no cache!” she cried. “There is none!”

“Two,” I said.

With a moan she ran from us, to a place near the wall, near which she was, at night, chained in the sand.

We walked over to where she knelt in the sand, terrified, digging, weeping. “Nine,” I said.

She lifted a piece of folded leather, many particles of sand clinging to it, to me.

Then she knelt with her head to my feet.

I opened the folded leather. It contained many small articles, some rings, trinkets, small mirrors, coins.

“You are a skilled thief,” I said.

“My father was a thief,” she said, “and his father before him.”

She trembled at my feet.

I passed her bit of loot about, and cast aside the scrap of leather in which she had wrapped her small horde.

“You understand,” I said, “that a slave girl may not possess goods.” She shook. “Yes, Master,” she said.

“Do you think, within the Ehn,” I asked, “that you could bring me a tarn disk, of gold, of double weight?” “I have no gold!” she cried.

“Then it seems you must be beaten,” I said.

“No!” she cried, “No!” then she turned and tried to flee, pushing her way through my men, closing her in. in an instant, two men holding her arms, she was thrust again before me, and forced to her knees. She put her head down.

“It seems,” said Rim, “that we must now beat her.”

“I do not think so,” I said.

Tina lifted her head. She was smiling. She held up her right hand to me. It held a golden tarn disk. It was of double weight.

There was a shout of pleasure from the men. They were striking their left shoulders with their right fists, repeatedly, in Gorean applause.

I lifted her to her feet. She was smiling. “You are superb,” I told her. “My father was a thief,” she said.

“And his father before him,” added Rim.

She looked down, smiling.

“Is it your intention to steal further in this camp?” I asked.

She looked up into my eyes, earnestly. “No, Master,” she said. “No!” “On the contrary,” I said, “it is my wish that you keep your skills fresh. You may steal in this camp where and when you wish, but within the Ahn you are to return what you have stolen.” She laughed, delightedly.

The men looked at one another, uncomfortably.

“Tonight,” I said, “you will, following our supper, give a demonstration.” “Yes, Master,” she said.

“Whose gold piece is this?” I asked, lifting the double tarn.

The men checked their pouches. None of them claimed the gold.

I did not think she had taken it from me. “Is it mine?” I asked her. “No,” she said, smiling. “It is Thurnock’s.” Thurnock, who had not checked his pouch, knowing it had not been taken form him, snorted in derision, a great peasant snort, like a bosk.

“It is not mine,” said Thurnock.

“Did you have a double tarn with you?” I asked him.

“Yes,” said Thurnock. He fished about in his pouch. Then he reddened. The men laughed.

I tossed Thurnock the coin.

I regarded Tina. “You are a lovely little thief,” I said. “Turn your back to me.” She did so.

I took up the cord with which she had bound in her slave tunic.

I looped it twice about her belly, and jerked it tight, tying it.

She gasped. “Do you permit me the cord,” she asked, “that I may more easily conceal what I steal?” “No,” I said. “I permit it to you that men may more easily note your beauty.” This time lovely Tina, beneath her tan, from the wharves of Lydius, blushed red, and put her head down.

I lifter her head, and took her in my arms. She trembled. I kissed her upon the lips. Her body, that of a white-silk girl, fresh to the collar, was terribly frightened. Not releasing her, I looked upon her. She lifted her lips delicately to mine, those of her master, and kissed them. Her eyes were frightened. “If I do not return, with the Ahn, what I steal,” she asked, “what will be done with me?” “For the first offense,” I said, “your left hand will be removed.” She struggled to escape my arms.

“For the second offense,” I said, “your right hand will be removed.” Her eyes were but inches from mine, dark, dilated, filled with terror. “Do you understand?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

“You are slave,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

I kissed her again, deeply, pressing back her head. Then I released her. She stood facing me, her hand before her mouth, small, beautiful in the brief, tightly corded slave garment. I noted that Sheera, carrying a bowl, standing nearby, did not seem much pleased.

I indicated Tina. To my men I said, “You may taste her lips.”

They eagerly reached for her, and, kissing her, handed her from one to the next. When she had been passed about the circle, stumbling, her hair across her eyes, the fillet gone, she stood again before me. She was breathing deeply. She was partly bent over. She looked up at me. She was not weeping. Then she stood straight, and, shoulders back, smoothed down the brief slave garment. The men laughed.

“Do not forget you are a slave,” I told her.

“I shall not, “ she said.

Then, as the men laughed, she turned about and went to the kitchen area, they parting, permitting her beauty to pass between them unopposed.

I thought she walked rather well.

I thought Tina would prove popular in the camp.

I and my men, save the posted guards, sat about the fire on the beach, within the wall, not far from the inclining hull of the Tesephone.

Sheera knelt before me, her head down, resting back on her heels, her arms extended to me, proffering me, in the manner of the Gorean slave girl, the wine bowl.

I took it, dismissing her.

“When will we return to the forests?” asked Rim. He sat beside me. He was served by Cara.

“Not immediately,” I said. “First, I wish to arrange for the comforts of my men, those remaining at the camp.” “Is there time?” asked Rim.

“I think so,” I said. “We know the approximate location of Verna’s camp and dancing circle. Marlenus does not. He still hunts in the vicinity of Laura.” “You are a patient man,” said Rim.

“Patience,” I told him, “ is a virtue of merchants.”

I held forth the wine bowl that Sheera, from a large wine crater, might refill it.

“Patience, too,” said Rim, “is a characteristic of players of the Game, and of certain warriors.” “Perhaps,” I said, and quaffed the wine.

“I myself,” said he, ruefully, “am less patient.”

“Tomorrow,” I told him, “you will go to Laura, trekking downriver. Arrange for four paga slaves, the most beautiful you can find in Laura, to be sent to our camp. Then, when these arrangements are made, return. The girls may follow you.” “There are men of Tyros in Laura,” said Rim, looking down into his small wine bowl, cradled in the palm of his right hand.

“We are simple traders, dealers in fur and hide,” I told him, “from the island of Tabor.” “True,” smiled Rim.

“I cannot wait,” said Thurnock, “until we can again enter the forests!” I looked at him. “Thurnock,” I said, “I need a man here, an officer I can trust, one to maintain the camp, one to command shrewdly in my absence.” “No!” boomed Thurnock.

“It is my wish, my friend,” I said to him.

Thurnock looked down. “Yes, my captain,” said he.

I stood up. “It is time for the exhibition I promised you,” I said. “Tina! Come here!” She had been serving, too. Now she sped to my side.

“Build up he fire,” I said. It was done.

The interior of the camp was now ell illuminated. “Can you all see clearly?” I asked.

There were sounds of assent. Even Sheera and Cara came close, to watch. “Note,” said Tina. “Can you feel this?” she put her fingers at the pouch worn at my belt.

I was disappointed. “Yes,” I said. “That was clumsy.”

Her first finger, followed by her thumb, had slipped within the neck of the pouch, forcing apart the strings which held it shut, and emerged, holding a coin. It had been done neatly, but I had felt the tug of the strings. “I felt it,” I told her.

“Of course,” she said.

I looked at her, puzzled.

She handed me back the coin, and I returned it to the pouch. I was not much pleased.

“It may always be felt,” she said, “if one is paying attention.”

“I had though you more skillful,” I said.

“Do not be angry with me, Master,” she wheedled. She put herself against me, and with her left hand about my waist, tugged at the side of my tunic, and lifted her lips to mine. I kissed her lightly, and them put her back from me. She handed me the coin a second time.

I laughed.

There was much applause from the men, and, too, from Sheera and Cara. “That time,” said Tina,” you did not feel it.” “No,” I said, “I did not.” “And yet it is the same thing,” she said, “which is done.” My look of puzzlement delighted her. She was much pleased. She turned to the others, not me, to explain what had been done.

“He was distracted,” she said. “One must always distract the attention. I did it by tugging at his tunic, where he would notice it, and by kissing him. We pay attention, commonly, to one thing at a time. The theft is there to be felt, but one does not feel it, because one is not intent on feeling it. One’s attention is elsewhere. One may also deflect the attention by a word, or a glance somewhere. One may sometime lead the individual to expect an attack in one area, and then strike in another.” “She should be a general,” grumbled Thurnock. Tina looked quickly at him. He slid backward in the sand.:Stay away from me!” he cried.

The men laughed.

“You, Master,” said Tina, to a handsome young seaman, who wore a wristlet studded with purplish stone, amethysts from Schendi, “would you be so kind as to rise and come forward.” He stood before her, appreciatively, but warily.

“You kissed me this afternoon,” she told him. “Please do so again.” “Very well,” he agreed.

“But guard your pouch,” said she.

“I shall,” said he.

He put his hands at her waist, and bent, carefully, to kiss her.

She stood on her tiptoes, and lifted her lips eagerly to his.

When they parted, he reached for his pouch. He grinned. “You did not obtain my pouch!” he laughed.

“Here is your wristlet,” said Tina, handing him the amethyst-studded wristlet. There was much laughter.

I and perhaps one or two of the others had seen her unbuckle it, deftly, lightly, with one hand, while his hand was at her waist. Most of those at the fire were as startled as the handsome young seaman when they saw the wristlet in Tina’s hand.

We gave her much applause.

Chagrined, but laughing, the young man rebuckled the wristlet, and went and sat down by the fire.

“Master,” said Tina.

He looked up.

“Your pouch,” she said, throwing it at him.

There was much more laughter.

“It is not always easy to unknot a pouch,” I told her.

“That is true,” she admitted. She looked at me, and smiled. “The strings, of course,” she said, “might be cut.” I laughed ruefully. I well recalled how well she had robbed me in our first acquaintance on the wharves of Lydius.

“Rim has been kind enough,” she said, ”from the blade of an old shaving knife to supply a suitable implement.” Rim, from his own pouch, handed up to her a tiny steel half crescent, ground from the blade of a shaving knife. Part of it, wrapped in physician’s tape, was bent and fitted behind her first two fingers. The blade, as it projected from between her two fingers, was almost invisible.

“Master?” asked Tina.

I got to my feet, determined not to be fooled. But when Tina stumbled against me, before I realized it, neatly, the purse strings had been cut.

“Excellent,” I told her. I reknotted the strings, tying them together. I would have a new purse tomorrow.

“Do you think you could do it again?” I asked.

“Perhaps,” said Tina. “I do not know. You are now on your guard.

She passed me once again. The strings were still intact. “You missed,” I told her.

She handed me the contents of the purse. I laughed. She had cut the bottom of the purse, dropping the coins into her hand.

Then, a moment later, the purse itself was in her hand, and again the strings dangled from my belt.

“Slave girls are not permitted weapons,” I laughed.

Tina tossed the tiny knife back to Rim.

We all much applauded her.

I pointed to the sand. She dropped to her knees in the sand, and put her head down.

“Lift your head,” I told her.

She did so.

“You are skillful,” said I, adding, “-Slave.”

“Thank you, Master,” she said.

I was much pleased. “Thurnock,” said I, “ give her wine.”

The men applauded.

“Very well,” grinned Thurnock. But he approached her warily.

“Turn you back to me,” he said, “and place your wrists, crossed, behind the back of your neck.” She did so, and Thurnock, with a length of binding fiber, looped twice about her throat, and then four times about her wrists, fastened her wrists behind the back of her neck.

“I will see where her hands are,” he grumbled. There was laughter. Then he said to her, “Kneel.” She did so, and, he holding her head back, by the hair, poured wine down her throat.

I turned to the handsome young seaman, he with the wristlet studded with amethysts.

I indicated Tina.

“Take her to the wall,” I said, “ to where she is chained for the night in the sand.” “Yes, Captain,” said he.

He lifted her easily in his arms. She struggled a bit, bound, but I could see that she was excited to be in his arms.

She had picked him out from all the others.

“Tonight,” I told the young man, “she is yours to chain in the sand.” “Captain?” he asked.

“Tonight,” I told him, “the chains she wears are yours.”

“My gratitude, Captain!” he cried.

She, a slave, bound, turned her lips to his, carried from the fire to her chains, in the darkness of the wall, on the other side of the Tesephone. Rim rose and yawned. He put his arm about Cara, and together they left the fire. The men began to drink and talk.

Sheera made so bold as to touch my forearm. My eyes warned her from me. She put down her head.

I talked long with Thurnock, discussing the plans for the enterprise in the forest, and my wishes for appointments and regulations at the camp. The fire had burned low, and the guard had been changed, before we were finished.

It was a hot night. The stars were very bright in the black Gorean sky. The three moons were beautiful. The men lay on their blankets in the sand, under the awnings stretched from the Tesephone.

The sound of the river was slow and sweet, moving between its banks, flowing downward to greet Thassa, the sea, more than two hundred pasangs from this small, silent camp.

I heard night birds cry in the forest. The shrill scream of a sleen, perhaps a pasang distant, carried to the camp. I heard the sounds of insects. I looked at the lines of the Tesephone in the darkness. She was a good ship. Before my shelter, on the sand, at the stern of the ship, there stood a figure. She wore the brief, sleeveless garment of white wool. My collar lay at her throat.

“Greetings, Sheera,” I said.

“In the forests,” she said, “you made me carry trade goods on my back. you braceleted me, and sent me into the woods, when sleen and panthers were hunting. By the women of Verna I was much abused. I was much switched.” I shrugged. “You are slave,” I said.

“I hate you,” she cried.

I regarded her.

“You are making me learn to cook,” she said, “you are making me learn to sew, to wash garments, to iron them!” “You are slave,” I told her.

“Tonight,” she said, “you forced me to serve you at the feast.” She looked at me, with fury. “You forced me to serve you as a slave girl!” “Whose collar do you wear?” I asked.

She turned away.

“Are you not a slave?” I asked, amused.

She turned to face me, her fists clenched. I heard the river behind her. “Why did you buy me?” she asked.

“To serve my purposed, to implement my plans,” I told her.

“And I have done so,” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

“They you may now sell me,” she whispered.

“Or slay you,” I said.

“Yes,” she said, “or slay me-should it please you!”

“But I am a merchant,” I said, “I would not wish to take the loss. I paid three pieces of gold and five tarsks for you.” “I am not property!” she cried.

“Of course you are property,” I told her. “You are animal. You are slave.” “Yes,” she wept, “I am slave, slave!” She turned away.

I made no attempt to comfort her. One does not comfort a slave.

“When in the slave market at Lydius,” she challenged, “when you saw me chained at the bar, did you think them only of your plans, your purposes?” “No,” I admitted.

She turned to face me.

“And your kiss,” I said,” when I tasted your lips, at the bar in Lydius, I did not find you without interest.” “And in the hold,” she asked, “after my branding, when at night, on the planks, you deigned to use me?” “I found you not without interest,” I told her.

“Does what transpired between us there mean nothing to you?” she asked. “It means nothing,” I said.

“I am, then, fully and unqualifiedly, a slave,” she said.

“Yes,” I said. I looked upon her. She was quite beautiful, in the shadows, in the brief, sleeveless garment of white wool, the fillet of white wool tying back her hair, barefoot, my collar at her throat.

As her seller had said, she was a beauty. And she was mine.

“Tonight,” she said, “I touched your arm.” She put down her head. “It cost me much to do so. I struggled with myself for several Ahn, fighting myself. But I reached out, to touch you. I could not help myself. I reached out, to touch you. And your eyes were hard.” I did not speak.

“I am no longer a panther girl,” she said. Then she looked up at me, and then she said, to my surprise, “Not do I wish to be.” I did not speak.

“In the hold,” she said,you taught me what it is to be a woman.”

She put down her head. “You gave me no option to my submission. You took from me everything. You took from me my total surrender.” “A woman in a collar is not permitted inhibitions,” I said.

She looked up at me, angrily.

“Is it not time you were chained for the night?” I asked.

Yes,” she said, angrily. “It is!” she regarded me. “It is time for me to be chained.” I saw the chains lying dark, half covered in the sand, not far from her feet. “I shall call one of the men,” I said, turning toward my shelter.

“I reached out to touch you tonight,” she said. “But your eyes were hard.” She looked down to the chains, half covered with hand. “Your eyes were hard,” she said.

“I shall call some to chain you,” I said.

“Master!” she cried.

I was startled. It was the first time Sheera had addressed me by this title. The word must have come hard from her.

She was still, for practical purposes, fresh to her collar. She had, however, standing there, half concealed in the darkness, begun to sense its meaning. I supposed that I, in the hold of the Tesephone, had perhaps taught her something of the import of the obdurate steel on her fair throat. She had obviously now, as it is said, deep in her body, begun to feel her collar.

How hard it must be, to be a woman, I thought. She, noble creature, so marvelous in her temptations and beauties, with the excellences of her mind and the determined prides of her heart, how strange that she, so much prizing her freedom, is made whole only as it is ruthlessly swept from her, that the true totality of her response, the fullness of her ecstasy is the yielding and the surrender, and the more delicious and incontrovertible the more complete. The Goreans claim that in each woman there is a free companion, proud and beautiful, worthy and noble, and in each, too, a slave girl. The companion seeks for her companion; the slave girl for her master. It is further said, that on the couch, the Gorean girl, whether slave or free, who has had the experience, who has tried all loves, begs for a master. She wishes to belong completely to a man, withholding nothing, permitted to withhold nothing. And, of course, of all women, only a slave girl may truly belong to a man, only a slave girl can be truly his, in all ways, utterly, totally, completely, his, selflessly, at his mercy, his ecstatic slave, helpless and joyous in the total submission which she is given no choice but to yield.

But I was not much interested in these things.

I saw her before me. She was only a slave.

“Please, Master,” she said, “chain me.”

“How are your lessons progressing?” I asked. I referred, of course, to those lessons which Cara was teaching her, in the menial tasks appropriate to female slaves.

“Let it be by your hand that I am chained,” she begged.

“Are you learning?” I asked.

She put down her head. “Yes,” she said. Then she lifted her head. “Sometimes I am clumsy,” she said,You may not understand. There are skills required, sometimes, delicate skills. Such tasks, seeming so simple to you, are not always without difficulty. It is not easy to perform such tasks well.” “Requiring skills or not,” I told her, “such tasks are servile.” “Yes,” she said, “they are servile.” “Learn them,” I told her.

“Yes,” she said, “-Master.”

I turned away from her.

“Be kind to me!” she cried.

“No,” said I, not turning.

“Chain me!” she cried.

I turned and faced her. “No,” I told her.

She threw herself at me, across the sand, her fists raised to strike me. I caught her fists, and held them, as she struggled.

“I hate you!” she wept. “I hate you!”

I released her fists. She pulled at the collar on her throat, her mouth trembling, her eyes wild with tears.

“You branded me,” she said. “You collared me!” She faced me. “I hate you!” she cried. “I hate you!” “Be silent, Slave,” said I to her.

Then suddenly she looked at me, boldly. She challenged me, in her stance and carriage, with her shoulders, her eyes.

“No,” I said.

“Use me,” she cried, “or give me to your crew!”

I regarded her.

She stepped back a foot in the sand. She was frightened. She had been insolent. I stepped to her. She looked into my eyes. They were those of a Gorean master. With my hand I cuffed her brutally across the mouth, blasting her head to one side.

She turned back to face me, her eyes glazed, blood on her face.

With one hand I tore the fillet from her hair. with one hand I tore the sleeveless garment of white wool. I bent to the sand and picked up the slave chains which, half covered with sand, lay there.

“No!” she said.

By the arm I thrust her, stumbling, to the darkness of the small canvas shelter at the side of the Tesephone.

There I thrust her to the sand, at my feet. I locked the slave chains on her. She did not move. I sat then beside her, in the darkness, in the sand, under the canvas. Then I reached out to take her head in my hands. As I did so I felt her head turn, and heard her, in the darkness, gasp and sob. Her lips, suddenly, parted, moist, almost uncontrollably, pressed a kiss into the palm of my hand. Then I held her head between my hands. I could feel the hair at the side of her head.

“Be kind to me,” she begged.

I laughed, softly. She moaned. I heard the chains move.

“Please be kind to me,” she begged.

“Be silent,” said I, “Slave.”

“Yes,” she whispered, “-Master.”

I pressed my lips to hers. With my finger tip I touched her body, and felt its vital, obedient helpless surge. I marveled. She began to breathe heavily. As a Gorean master, curious, I gently, delicately, touched her nipples. They were sweet and high, full and blood-charged. I was pleased. I kissed them, gently. Her responses were not feigned.

“You are an excited slave,” I told her.

She did not respond, but turned her head to one side. I heard her sob. Then I again touched her, my finger gently to her body. To my incredible pleasure, that of the master of this slave. I felt her body move helplessly, spasmodically. The body of Sheera, once the proud panther girl, now only a collared slave, branded, and rightless, an animal, leaped submissively, uncontrollably, to the slightest touch of her master.

I heard Thurnock and some of the others, begin to stir about.

It was dawn.

Cara had already lit a fire.

Sheera lay against me in the sand, her head pressed against my waist. She was still chained.

“You must be up soon,” I told her, touching her head. “You will have duties to attend to.” “Yes, Master,” she whispered.

I stroked her head, gently, as it lay against me.

“I cannot help it that I am not as beautiful as the other girls,” said Sheera. I did not speak.

“I cannot help it,” she said, “that my breasts are too small, that my wrists and ankles are too thick.” “I find you very beautiful,” I said.

She rose on her elbows, with a rustle of chain. “Could a girl such as I please a man?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, “very much so.”

“But I am not beautiful,” she said.

“You are very beautiful,” I told her.

“Am I truly beautiful?” she asked.

I rose on one elbow. “You are a truly beautiful woman,” I told her. She smiled. How beautiful she was!

I seized her in my arms and threw her to her back in the sand. She looked up at me, happily. “And like every truly beautiful woman,” I told her, “you should be a slave.” She laughed. “I am a slave,” she said. “Your slave.” She lifted her lips to mine.

I kissed her.

“Today,” I said, “Rim goes to Laura, to fetch paga slaves for the men. In the morning, we go into the forests.” “Then,” she said, “Master, you have nothing to do today?” I lay on my back. “Yes,” I said, “that is true.” “If you will unchain me,” she said, “I will be up and about my duties.” “Cara and Tina can manage,” I told her.

“Oh?” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

“But what then,” she asked, “am I to do today?”

“Thurnock!” I called.

“Yes, Captain,” I heard, from outside the shelter.

“Command the camp today,” I told him.

Thurnock gave a great laugh, and Sheera thrust her head against my side. “Will you have food in your shelter?” he laughed.

“Yes,” I told him, “from time to time.”

He laughed and turned away.

Sheera looked at me. She was smiling. “And I?” she asked. “Do I have duties today?” “Yes,” I told her.

She laughed.

I took her again in my arms.