Mariners of Gor

Chapter Twenty-Five

I had inquired the name of several slaves, now and then, casually, over the past few days, but was particularly interested in one name, that of one slave. Obviously I did not wish to signal her out, suggesting that she might be of special interest. Slaves, of course, as other animals, are named as masters may please. The name given to the slave was Adraste.

“It was you, in Ar, who threw me the rag of a slave!” hissed Adraste.

I had taken Alcinoe by the hair, bent her over, and thrust her into the same small kennel with Adraste, and had then swung shut the gate, it locking with its closure. In this way, the two former highest, richest women in Ar, both traitresses, both muchly involved in the Great Treason, both wanted in Ar, both now slaves, were forced to confront one another, in their current humiliation, shame, and degradation.

The thrice-walled grounds of the castle of Lord Temmu, all in all, must have occupied more than a full square pasang, extending broadly over a wide plateau, which, on one side, fell straight to the sea, and was accessible otherwise, as from the cove, by steep trails, one of which was walled, that from the wharf. The trails were narrow, fortified, and might be economically defended. An ascent otherwise, given the steepness of the plateau, almost vertical, accentuated by the work of Lord Temmu’s military engineers, would have been not only difficult but extremely hazardous. A small group of skilled climbers, approaching at night, might have reached the foot of the walls, but it seemed that an ascent of the plateau by any large group, certainly undetected, would have been unlikely. Three additional precautions tended to militate against a practical ascent of the plateau, one of which was quite new to me. Comprehensible enough was the precaution of symmetrically placed, projecting guard stations built into the side of the plateau, each manned by two ashigaru. From each station arrow fire might rake the side of the plateau. No point on the plateau was not accessible to fire from two directions. Each station, too, was equipped with a drum, by means of which signals could be conveyed. A second precaution, sensibly enough, was the nightly illumination of the plateau, though dimly, by lanterns. A lantern which ceased burning would be noted and investigated. The most interesting precaution, at least to me, was the provision of nesting sites on the almost vertical slopes for the Uru, which is a small, winged, vartlike mammal. This mammal, which usually preys on insects and small urts, like several species of birds, is communally territorial. When disturbed, it shrieks its warning and it is soon joined by a clamoring swarm of its fellows. In this way, a natural alarm system is obtained. Moreover, if a nesting site is closely approached, the Uru is likely to attack the intruder. It is a small mammal, but, shrieking and flying at the face of a climber, one precariously clinging to an almost vertical surface, it is, I am told, at least in such a situation, something most unpleasant to encounter. In any event, the holding of Lord Temmu, if not impregnable, was redoubtable. It remained, at least until now, despite the woes of the war, secure and inviolable, one stubborn, mighty, obdurate impediment to the designs of Lord Yamada, shogun, as it was said, at least by his minions, of the Twelve Islands.

It was now the second day of the Sixth Passage Hand, three days before the autumnal equinox.

Pani continued to guard the great ship.

Training was extensive and exhausting.

I did not know when we would march.

I saw little of Cabot, but, from time to time, he appeared at the castle, arriving at night on tarnback, presumably to consult with the shogun, Temmu, and Lords Okimoto and Nishida. I gathered things proceeded apace with the tarn cavalry, surely so if they were as deep in training as we were.

I myself had never seen Lord Temmu.

I gathered this was not that unusual, given that he was a shogun.

We had seen nothing of the fleet of Lord Yamada. Were we in the vicinity of the continent, where the climate was less mild, I might have supposed the fleet had retired to its base, or port, for the fall and winter. Here, one did not know. It might, of course, have returned to port. One did not know. I did learn, interestingly, that Lord Temmu had possessed at one time a navy, but that it had been substantially driven from the sea. He had been, it seemed, no more successful at sea than on the land. To be sure, it had been a small thing, compared with the ships at the disposal of Lord Yamada. It consisted now, I had learned, of only three ships. They were much, presumably, like the ships of the Vine Sea, with their battened sails and high stem castles. One of these ships, to my great interest, had put in at the wharf a week ago, for water and supplies, and then, a day later, set out to sea again. I had learned much of these matters from some of the lower Pani after the wharfing of the ship, who, once they had overcome their diffidence, seemed pleased to speak with me, one who would speak with them, pleasantly, bow to them, show them respect, and such. They became silent when one of the higher Pani might approach.

Four days ago there had been much stirring, much agitation, amongst the men. Tersites, who, as Aetius, his fellow, had never left the ship, had had eyes painted on its bow. In the morning, they were there, large, bright, patient, calm, stately. It was as though the wood had sprung to life. This produced alarm amongst the men, for it suggested the possibility that the ship might depart. Why else would eyes, after all this time, be given to the great ship? The anxiety of the men was somewhat assuaged when it was made clear to them that the Pani who guarded the ship were not mariners, and that the small number of officers and mariners who came and went upon her, from time to time, would not be enough to bring her to sea. I myself suspected that Tersites had at last given eyes to the ship because he was terrified for her, and hoped that she might now, moored at the wharf, be able to see her danger, danger more from men than the sea.

As long as the ship was there I knew that our men would see it as a symbol of the far world they knew, and remembered, would see it longingly, would see it jealously, would see it as their only likely passage home. Was their treasure not aboard? What had they to hope for here, other than uncertainty, danger, and possible death?

I sensed there was much secret speaking amongst the men.

The Pani, of course, would be well aware of this.

No wonder Tersites gave eyes to the great ship.

The slaves were muchly sequestered, in kennels here and there, these kept in sheds, within the compound, away from the frequent rains.

There were free Pani women in the castle, perhaps companions of officers, and several contract women. These women, demure in their kimonos, their tiny hands in their sleeves, would sometime, in their short, careful steps, visit the kenneled slaves. They looked upon them much as one would look on caged verr. Sometimes they spoke softly amongst themselves, laughed, and turned away.

Of what interest might such caged beasts be to anyone?

But men looked upon them and saw them differently, in terms of the uses of slaves.

There were fewer slaves now, as some fifty had been taken from the castle’s grounds. Whereas certain things remained obscure to me, several of the lower Pani, who served in the castle, spoke to other Pani, and some of these spoke to me. A number of probes, reconnaissances, or inquiries had been conducted following our arrival. Doubtless some of these were intended to locate and ascertain the numbers and dispositions of Lord Yamada’s forces in the vicinity, but others were apparently of a much subtler nature, some to instigate apprehension which might spread naturally to the enemy, with appeals to fear and superstition, and others of a more prosaic, diplomatic nature. Rumors were being spread by Lord Temmu’s men, disguised as fishermen, herdsmen, and such, of new allies for Lord Temmu, strange warriors, arrived from far off, and, terrifyingly, of dragon birds, which might fly forth and destroy armies. I had no doubt that our mercenaries were formidable, but they were no more so, or less so, one supposed, than the forces likely to be arrayed against them. If nothing else, the ambush and fighting in the defile and at the beach would make that clear to the generals of Lord Yamada. The tarns were another matter. I gathered that these folk had never seen a tarn, and might not even, at first, understand such things to be a natural, vulnerable form of life. They might take it as a dragon bird, whatever that might be. Terror, of course, can be as dangerous a weapon as the sword or spear. Not only would tarns be new to these islands, but they were unfamiliar as well, as far as I knew, with the swift, lofty, silken kaiila, common in the Tahari, on the southern plains, in the Barrens, and such. An army could move only as fast as its slowest man could march. The Pani did have, however, one swift mode of communication. I gathered this from my friends amongst the lower Pani. To be sure, it was available only to a few. It was the swift-flighted, message-carrying Vulo, released, seeking its familiar cot and roost. The overtures of diplomacy were addressed to minor daimyos, of which there were many. The taxes of Lord Yamada were high, the agricultural confiscations were large, to feed his army, often leaving starvation in their wake. The contumely of his officers was oppressive, and their appropriations severe, enforced quarterings, sons impressed for the navy and army, daughters taken for training in the contract houses, or, as likely, simply caged for the girl markets. The rule of Lord Yamada was one of iron. Crucifixion was a common punishment, and might be inflicted for so small a cause as an indiscreet expression, a careless word, a bow deemed insufficiently prompt or deep, insufficiently ingratiating. A warrior might remove the head of a Peasant, to try the quality and stroke of a sword before its purchase. I did not know, were the situation reversed, if Lord Temmu would be much different. But the situation was not reversed. The fifty some slaves taken from the compound were an ingredient in these various diplomatic missions. They were apportioned, along with other gifts, among the daimyos.

In passing, one might mention the blond, barbarian slave, Saru. It may be recalled she was not a ship slave, but the personal slave of Lord Nishida. On the other hand, as far as I know, supposedly because of certain reservations pertaining to the nature and quality of her character, he had never deigned to honor her with slave use. It seems he regarded her as unworthy to be his slave.

In any event, she was stripped and danced before Lord Temmu, after which Lord Nishida, as was apparently his original intention, gave her to him. Lord Okimoto, then, perhaps not to be outdone, gave ten slaves to the shogun. Of our original store, or cargo, of slaves then, we retained something like one hundred and forty.

“It was you, in Ar, who threw me the rag of a slave!” hissed Adraste.

“It fitted you well!” said Alcinoe.

“I was naked, save for it!” said Adraste.

“I would not have given you so much,” said Alcinoe, “despicable traitress!”

“I am Ubara!” said Adraste.

“Go back to Ar and claim your throne!” said Alcinoe.

“I am Ubara!” wept Adraste.

“You are a collared slave!” said Alcinoe.

Adraste clutched the collar on her neck, and shook it, as though it might be removed.

“See?” said Alcinoe.

“You, too, you slut,” said Adraste, “are collared. You, too, are a slave!”

It may be recalled that I had taken Alcinoe by the hair, bent her over, and thrust her into same small kennel with Adraste, and had then swung shut the gate, it locking with its closure. In this way, the two former highest, richest women in Ar, both traitresses, both muchly involved in the Great Treason, both wanted in Ar, both now slaves, were forced to confront one another, in their current humiliation, shame, and degradation. I had thought this would be of interest, even amusing, to put the slaves together.

“Slave! Slave!” said Alcinoe.

“Slave, slave!” cried Adraste.

I had earlier sought out Adraste’s kennel, and stood before it. I had not spoken. Adraste, within, kneeling, in the rather generous tunic, given to the slaves by the Pani, looked out, through the bars. “Master?” she said, uncertainly.

“Do you know me?” I asked.

“No, Master,” she said.

I thought it likely she had not recognized me in the private area of the Venna keeping area, some nights ago, for the light of the lantern had fallen full on her face, perhaps half blinding her, not on mine, and not on that of Alcinoe, who stood back, rather out of the light. Too, soon in position, she had scarcely dared to do more than stare ahead. Some masters do not permit the eyes of the slave to meet theirs, unless commanded to do so, or given permission. To me, that seemed absurd. Surely one of the pleasures of the mastery is to look directly into the eyes of the slave. Are their eyes not often beautiful, brown, blue, hazel, green, so delicate, so soft, so moist? Why should one not in all ways enjoy one’s property? And is it not pleasant to hold her face in your hands, and look deeply upon it? Does her lip tremble? Has she committed a fault of which you might be unaware? Is she afraid of your switch? Or are her eyes pleading for the chains and fur?

“Look closely upon me,” I said. I stepped more into the light.

Suddenly she shook with fear.

“You recognize me,” I said.

“No, no!” she said.

“I recognize you,” I said.

“I think not, Master,” she said.

“Oh?”

“I am only a slave,” she said, “only a humble slave. My name is Adraste! I am Adraste, Adraste!”

“If it pleases Master?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, “if it pleases Master.”

“It pleases me, muchly,” I said.

“Thank you, Master,” she said.

“You speak truly,” I said.

“Master?”

“You are the slave, Adraste.”

“Yes, Master!”

“And,” I said, “once Talena, of Ar.”

“No!” she said. “No!”

“You are no longer a free woman,” I said. “You may now be punished for lying.”

“Please, no, Master,” she said.

“Have you ever felt the lash?” I asked.

“I?” she asked, disbelievingly.

“Yes,” I said.

“No,” she said.

“Some time with it would doubtless do you good,” I said. Thousands, I supposed, would be pleased to think of the once-proud Talena, of Ar, now a slave, bound, and writhing under the lash, the slave lash, now appropriately to be applied to her. I had little doubt that the imperious and demanding Talena had put her own slaves under it, often enough. Now she, too, as they, a mere slave, was subject to it.

“I beg mercy,” she said.

I did not deign to respond. Let her consider what might be done to her.

“Please do not punish a poor slave,” she said.

“Have you not lied?” I asked.

“Forgive me, Master!” she said.

“The whip,” I said, “is an excellent device for encouraging dutifulness in a slave, and a desire to please, a zealous desire to please. Surely you noted that in your own slaves.”

“Please do not whip me, Master,” she said.

“Why not?” I asked.

“I do not want to be whipped,” she said.

“What is that to me?” I asked.

Tears suddenly sprang into her eyes, and her small, lovely hands clutched the bars, through which, pathetically, she peered up at me.

“You would have me whipped, would you not?” she said.

“More likely I would bind you, and do it myself,” I said.

“Surely not!” she said.

“Know yourself recognized, slut,” I said, “once Talena of Ar.”

“No!” she wept. “No!”

“You are in need of correction, girl,” I said. “I go now, to fetch the slave lash.”

“Please, no, Master!” she said.

I turned back.

“Slave,” I said.

“-Yes, Master.”

“Who am I?” I asked.

“Callias,” she whispered, “Callias of Jad, Cosian, spearman, first of nine, guardsman, the occupation, the Central Cylinder.”

“Better,” I said.

In her terror, and misery, she tried to rise up, but could not do so, as the kennel does not allow that. Then again she was on her knees. Tears now ran down her cheeks. She grasped the bars, tightly, desperately. She pressed her face, as she could, against the bars.

“And who are you?” I asked.

“You know!” she said.

“Speak it,” I said.

“Once Talena, of Ar,” she whispered.

“Yes,” I said.

“Dear Callias,” she said. “Please do not tell anyone!”

“‘Master’,” I said.

“Please, Master,” she said. “Do not tell anyone!”

“You know the bounty on you?” I said.

“Yes,” she whispered, frightened.

“Here is my hand,” I said, extending it to the close-set, narrow, but sturdy bars, adequate to hold a female. “Kiss it, and lick it, first the palm, and then the back, reverently.”

She put her face, as she could, through the bars, and carefully, with her small tongue, kissed it and licked it, first the palm, and then the back, reverently, and then drew back in the kennel, looking at me, but continued to grasp the bars. “Please do not tell anyone who I am,” she said.

“Were I to do so,” I said, “I would doubtless be killed, and others would fight over you, and there would be much bloodshed.”

“We are far from Ar,” she said.

“That, too,” I said.

“As long as I am only Adraste,” she said, “we are both more safe.”

“How came you into the keeping of the Pani?” I asked.

“You, of Cos, well know of the insurrection,” she said, “and its success.”

“Indeed,” I said, ruefully.

“I was betrayed in Ar,” she said, “by the traitor, Seremides, by the hateful Flavia of Ar, traitress whom I had befriended, and others, who would turn me over to the forces of revolt, to bargain for their own amnesty or escape.”

I knew something of this from Alcinoe.

“But on the roof of the Central Cylinder,” she said, “there was sudden confusion, and darkness, and I was seized, and rendered unconscious. When I regained consciousness I found myself stripped and chained, with others, in a wooden stockade, somewhere in the northern forests, in the power of these strange, inexplicable men, Pani. I was collared, and enslaved, no different from the others, as though I might be no more than they.”

“There is much in this that I do not understand,” I said.

“Nor I,” she said.

“I gather from keepers,” I said, “that you bear in your left thigh, high, under the hip, not the common kef, but the mark of Treve.”

She reddened.

“This is not the first time you have been a slave,” I said.

“I was captured by Rask of Treve,” she said, “a warrior amongst warriors, a man amongst men. I must wear a Trevan collar. I was tented with his women. Well did he humble me, and teach me how spasmodically helpless might be a slave in the arms of her master. I bathed him. He made me dance for him. I wore his silk, what he would give me of it.”

“It is my understanding that women do not escape the chains of Rask of Treve,” I said.

“He thought little of me,” she said, “as I suppose is appropriate for a slave. And his interest in me, I gather, was primarily that I was the daughter of Marlenus of Ar, his mortal enemy, and the mortal enemy of Treve. It was doubtless primarily for that reason that he captured me, bound me naked before him, supine, over the saddle of his tarn, caressed me into need, and took me to his camp. It amused him, doubtless, to have the daughter of his worst enemy in his collar, an obedient, silked slave in his tent.”

“You escaped?” I said.

“No, Master,” she said. “As you noted, women do not escape the chains of Rask of Treve. I was given away, and, to show his scorn, to a woman, Verna, a Panther Girl of the northern forests.”

“You would seem to be a prize,” I said. “How is it that he would let you go so cheaply?”

“To humiliate me, of course,” she said. “I, the daughter of a Ubar, given away like a pot girl!”

“Still,” I said, “it seems surprising.”

“There was another woman,” she said.

“Of course,” I said.

“It was a young, blond barbarian,” she said, “blue-eyed, and shapely, who could not even speak Gorean properly, a meaningless slut, one named El-in-or.”

“That is, I think,” I said, “a barbarian name.”

“I think so,” she said. “Certainly she was a barbarian.”

“She must have been very beautiful,” I said.

“You can buy ten of them off any chain in a market,” she said.

“You were then, it seems, deemed inferior to a girl, ten of whom might be bought off any chain in a market.”

Her hands turned white on the bars.

How furious she was.

“She is now doubtless his companion,” she said.

“Rask of Treve,” I said, “does not free women. She is probably being kept as the most perfect of slaves.”

Men desire slaves, women desire masters.

“I was taken to the northern forests,” she said, “the slave of Panther Girls. Later I was sold, and eventually returned to Ar.”

“It is my understanding,” I said, “that you begged to be purchased.”

“Of course,” she said, angrily.

“You had compromised the honor of Marlenus,” I said. “Accordingly you were disowned, made no longer his daughter. An embarrassment to the city, you were sequestered in the Central Cylinder. It is easy to understand your outrage, your bitterness, at such a reduction. Then something happened to Marlenus. He was long from the city. In his absence, with which you or others may have had something to do, you plotted with dissident factions and the island ubarates; you laid your plans carefully, and put them into patient and subtle execution; and then, eventually, by means of enemies without and treachery within, your schemes bore their ugly, dark fruit. You received the medallion. You were declared Ubara. The rest is well-known.”

She was silent.

“So,” I said, “you were adjudged inferior to a barbarian named El-in-or.”

“By Rask of Treve!” she said.

“To be sure,” I said.

“What does he know?” she said.

“What, indeed?” I said.

“He is only one man!”

“True,” I said.

“I am the most beautiful woman on all Gor!” she said.

“Perhaps your slaves, and courtiers, told you that,” I said.

“Certainly,” she said.

“And you believed it?”

“Am I not the most beautiful woman you have ever seen?” she said.

“No,” I said, “but you are quite beautiful. In a normal market, you might bring three, perhaps four, silver tarsks.”

“Others might bring more?” she said.

“Of course,” I said. “What I think you should understand, is that a woman might be the most beautiful woman in the world to one fellow, and not to another. A woman who is incomparably beautiful to one fellow might not be taken as a free pot girl by another. Perhaps the first fellow senses in her something the others have missed. There are mysteries in these matters. And often a fellow wants not the most beautiful woman, anyway, but the most desirable, the one he wants most, which is not necessarily the same thing. Who knows why one fellow wants one woman in his collar and not another?”

“You will keep my secret,” she said.

“For the time being, certainly,” I said.

“Do others know I am here?” she said.

“Doubtless some of the high Pani,” I said, “or you would not be here, at all.”

“Of what value am I to them,” she said, “that I would be here?”

“I do not know,” I said.

“Are there others?” she asked.

“I know of one woman,” I said.

“What woman?” she said, frightened.

“You might be surprised,” I said. “Perhaps I shall introduce you later.”

“And others?” she said.

“Possibly,” I said. “I do not know.”

“I am afraid,” she said.

“Seremides is here,” I said.

“No!” she wept. “He had me bound at his feet, in the rag of a slave, to bargain with me in Ar!”

“He does not know you are here,” I said, “though he may suspect it.”

“Keep him from me!” she begged. “Do not let him know I am here!”

“He need only look into your kennel,” I said.

“‘Kennel’?” she said.

“Surely you know you occupy a slave kennel,” I said.

“I am helpless,” she moaned.

“At least,” I said, “the Pani have given you a rather ample tunic.”

“It is clearly the garment of a slave,” she said.

“Perhaps it will protect you from the Pani free women,” I said.

“They look upon me as though I were a beast,” she said.

“That is all you are,” I said.

She shook the bars.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Very!” she said.

“Master?” I said.

“Very, Master,” she said.

I took a small cake from my pouch, and she eagerly reached for it, but I drew it back. I gathered she was indeed hungry.

“Hands on the bars,” I said, “face forward, open your mouth.”

She complied, and I fed her by hand. Slaves may be fed that way. Sometimes they are knelt and their hands bound behind them. Sometimes they must take food and water from pans on the floor, without the use of their hands. Such homely practices are useful in reminding them that they are slaves.

It pleased me that the former Talena, of Ar, the former Ubara of Ar, was now before me, a kenneled slave. It pleased me that she had kissed and licked my hand, first the palm, and then the back, reverently. That is a common conciliatory act on the part of a slave, to lick and kiss, reverently, the hand by which she might be cuffed, first the palm, and then the back. In this way she might express her fear that she might be, and her hope that she will not be, struck. Commonly, however, this serves as a simple, lovely act of deference, by means of which the slave acknowledges that she is her master’s beast, his owned, domestic animal. A similar act, perhaps more clearly symbolic, is involved when the slave, kneeling, licks and kisses the master’s whip, held to her lips. Sometimes she must bring it to him in her teeth, on all fours, and then, on all fours, or kneeling, lick and kiss it, as it is held to her lips. In this way she acknowledges that she is subject to him, that she is his slave, his property. It pleased me, too, of course, that the former Ubara had fed from my hand. The hand-feeding of a slave, she not permitted the use of her hands, is, too, an act rich in symbolism. In this way it is signified that the slave is wholly dependent on the master, even for her food, and that it will be granted to her, if it is, only when, and as, he pleases. Domestic beasts, of course, are often fed by hand.

“Master well knows how to teach a girl her collar,” she said.

“I know of someone whom you might be interested in meeting,” I said.

“Not Seremides!” she said.

“No,” I said, “a woman.”

“Does she know me?”

“Yes,” I said.

“And she is here?”

“Yes.”

“Who is she?”

“I will introduce you,” I said. “I think you will be surprised.”

“Who is she?” she said.

“An old friend,” I said.

“Who,” she said, “who?”

I then turned away, leaving the slave, Adraste, in the kennel.

“Slave! Slave!” had said Alcinoe.

“Slave, slave!” had cried Adraste.

“Is this any way for old friends to greet one another?” I asked.

“How is it that you are here?” asked Alcinoe.

“I do not know,” said Adraste.

“What happened on the roof of the Central Cylinder?” asked Alcinoe.

“I do not know,” said Adraste, “but you failed to sell me for your freedom in Ar!”

“You looked well on your knees, at the feet of Seremides,” she said, “bound, helpless, waiting, in the rag of a slave!”

“You betrayed me!” said Adraste.

“You betrayed all of us, and Ar!” said Alcinoe.

“Do not pretend fidelity to the Home Stone,” said Adraste. “You were eager, and much with me, each hort of the way! We were arch traitresses, we two, so vain and proud, so ambitious, so ruthless, each abetting and urging on the other. You would line your purse with gold and your station with power! No opportunity for wealth, for influence, for self-aggrandizement was neglected! We glorified our offices and despoiled the city, ruined our enemies and enriched our favorites, our pets and hirelings!”

“But all did not continue to go well,” I said.

Both cried out with rage.

It amused me to see the two former high women of Ar, tunicked, barefoot, collared, kneeling, unable to stand, two slaves, crowded together in the small kennel.

How they, former conspirators, now helpless, hated one another!

It occurred to me that the occupants of that tiny enclosure were worth a fortune.

But I had never cared for gold washed in blood.

“You look well in a collar,” said Adraste. “You should have always worn one!”

“I see a metal circlet on your neck,” said Alcinoe, “slave!”

“How came you here?” asked Adraste.

“I escaped the city, but was captured, and collared,” said Alcinoe. “I was purchased, honestly and openly, in Brundisium, by Pani!”

“As a common slave,” sneered Adraste.

“And so, too, in similar straits,” said Alcinoe, “would you have been purchased, as a common slave, and surely for no more than for a handful of copper!”

Alcinoe, as I recalled, had sold for forty copper tarsks, not even half a silver tarsk. Presumably the Pani had bought her on speculation, that she would improve. In my view, their investment was excellent, and the former Lady Flavia, dieted and exercised, and having come to some sense of what it was to be in a collar, had more than substantiated their judgment. The former Lady Flavia, her freedom behind her, was now considerably improved. She had become an excellent piece of collar meat, perhaps worth even two silver tarsks. I had seen several fellows, on the ship, and later, in the courtyard, while the girls were being exercised, usually five at a time, on tethers, assessing her, as men will assess slaves of interest. I wondered if slaves were fully aware of their superiority as females to free women. The most female of all women is, of course, the slave.

“I would have sold for a thousand pieces of gold!” said Adraste.

That was not at all likely, unless she was being purchased with an eye to the bounty, later to be collected.

Alcinoe laughed unpleasantly, scornfully. “Writhing naked in your chains, to the prodding of a whip, on a cement shelf, I do not think you would bring more than four or five tarsk-bits.”

That estimate, in my view, was unrealistically low.

Alcinoe, incidentally, I had been given to understand, had been sold from such a shelf in Brundisium. Not every girl is publicly sold at auction. Indeed, some high slaves are exhibited privately to rich clients, in the purple booths. Even on the shelves, of course, as well as in the purple booths, a girl may be expected to perform to some extent, that some sense might be conveyed to the client of the possible value of the merchandise. It is only in the purple booths, of course, that a girl may be tried out by a prospective buyer, and woe to the girl, should she not prove satisfactory.

“I am the most beautiful woman on Gor!” said Adraste.

“I have seen tarsks better looking than you!” said Alcinoe.

“Do not strike one another,” I warned.

“Am I not more beautiful than she, Master?” inquired Alcinoe.

“You are both nice looking,” I said, circumspectly.

“Price us!” demanded Alcinoe.

“I would guess,” I said, “that you would go for two silver tarsks, perhaps two and a half, and she for three, perhaps four, in a good market.”

“See!” said Adraste.

“But there are many,” I said, “who would be likely to go for far more.”

“Surely not,” said Adraste.

“Which of us would you prefer?” asked Alcinoe.

“That is a different question,” I said.

“You prefer me!” she said.

“Oh?” I said.

“Yes,” she said, “the girls have watched you watching me, and they tell me things. You look upon me as a master upon a coveted slave. As a slaver on a maiden of choice, unaware in the baths, as a hungry sleen on the grazing tabuk. Doubtless in your mind you have put your bonds on me many times! How many times, in your mind, have I lain naked before you, helpless, bound hand and foot?”

I began to suspect that there were networks of communication amongst slaves of which I had been unaware. No wonder one strives to keep such beauties ignorant.

“Is it not true?” demanded Alcinoe.

“It is true,” I said, “that in a collar you are better looking than you were in your silks, in Ar.”

“Yes!” said Alcinoe.

“But is that not true of any woman?” I said.

“I thought you were my friend, my closest friend,” said Adraste.

“Ubars, and Ubaras, have no friends,” said Alcinoe.

“No!” said Adraste.

“Who would be your friend?” asked Alcinoe. “You are vain, and pretentious, deceitful, treacherous!”

“You used me!” said Adraste.

“Yes, and hated you!” said Alcinoe. “It was with overwhelming pleasure that I, on the command of Seremides, hunted you down in your chambers, where you cowered, alone, unguarded, forsaken, and cast you the rag of a slave, demanding that you strip yourself naked and put it on!”

“She-sleen!” cried Adraste.

“How well it looked on you!”

“She-tharlarion, she-urt!” cried Adraste.

“How right bondage is for you!” cried Alcinoe.

“And for you!” cried Adraste.

“It is enough,” I said to Alcinoe. “It is time to return you to your kennel.”

I opened the door of the kennel, and Alcinoe backed out. My hand on her shoulder prevented her from rising. I then closed the gate of the kennel, which, with its closing, locked.

Alcinoe made again to rise, but, again, I prevented her.

“Master?” she said.

“Surely you do not expect to rise,” I said.

“Master?”

“Return to your kennel,” I said, “in the modality of the she-sleen, on all fours.”

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“And lift your garment,” I said. “It is not to be soiled.”

I watched her leave the shed, and begin to make her way across the courtyard.

“You well know, Master,” said Adraste, “how to teach a woman her collar.”

“Sometime,” I said, “someone may teach you yours.”

“No one can do that,” she said.

“Rask of Treve did so,” I said, “and the Panther Girls of the northern forests.”

“No, no!” she wept.

I reached through the bars and drew her by the hair, tightly against the bars. “Remember the penalty for lying,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she wept.

“You are no longer a free woman,” I said.

“No, Master,” she wept.

“Did they not?” I said.

Tears streamed down her face, some running on the bars. “Yes, Master,” she said, “they taught me my collar.”

“And well?”

“Yes, Master, very well!”

“You learned it?” I said.

“I was given no choice,” she said. “I learned it well.”

“And doubtless,” I said, “you can learn it well, again, or better.”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered.

I then released her, and she drew back in the kennel, bent over, in its darkness, weeping.

Some free women think that they can never be taught the collar, but, when it is on them, they learn differently, and swiftly.