Mercenaries of Gor

7 We get a late start; Boabissia Is Encouraged to Silence

"So at last we are upon our way, you lazy sleen," said Boabissia, lurching on the wagon box. "I thought it would never come about!"

"Please," said Mincon. "My head."

"It is well past noon!" said Boabissia.

"How do you feel?" I asked Mincon.

"I am sober now," said Mincon. "At least I see but one road ahead." "You did very well," Hurtha congratulated me. "I had not known those of the cities could drink so much."

"We can do many wonderful things," I said, "when we are properly motivated." If one kept one's eyes closed it was easier to avoid the glare from the light on the stones. One could hold onto the edge of the wagon bed with one hand. To be sure, it increased the likelihood of stepping into potholes.

Hurtha fell against the side of the wagon. "Are you all right?" I asked. "Certainly," he said.

"You are all monsters, and lazy sleen," said Boabissia. "I am sure, now, we will never catch up with the others, surely not until after dark!"

"That is my concern," said Mincon, blinking shaking his head.

"Then I suggest you attend to it," said Boabissia.

"Please," begged Mincon.

"I think I shall see that you are reported to the wagon officer," she said. "Surely he would have something to say about your broad-minded attitudes toward schedules, your unconscionable delays, your neglect of your duties. Do you think you are being paid to take your time? You have stores to deliver!" "Please," said Mincon. "Please!"

Boabissia had been a pain all morning. Scarcely had we been permitted to sleep. Even before dawn, when others were having their breakfasts, and later, in the vicinity of dawn, when the other wagons were preparing to leave camp, we had been urged to bestir ourselves.

"We are alone on the road," said Boabissia. "You have deprived us of the safety of numbers. This could well be dangerous! Why did you not listen to me? What if we should be set upon by brigands?"

I hoped that would not happen, as I was not certain I could find my sword. Ah, yes there it was, somehow in its sheath, over my left shoulder. The only problem, then, would be in attempting to dislodge it from its housing.

"Brigands might only slay you," said Boabissia, "but I am a free woman! I have much more to fear! I might be put in a collar, and made a slave. Like those sluts in the back! You could of thought of me! You never think of me!"

How is it, I wondered, that each time I put my foot down, my head hurts. That was interesting. Could it be normal? There was nothing in the codes of warriors, as I recalled, that explicitly demanded resistance to brigands, though perhaps it was presupposed. It was an interesting interpretative question, probably one calling for the attention of high councils. If I were beheaded by a brigand's sword. I mused, I would be ridded of this headache. To be sure, such a remedy can be used but once. That is a count against it. Too, it was not true that we never thought of Boabissia. We often thought of her. In fact, I was thinking of her now.

"Men are such beasts," she said, "tarsks, miserable drunken sleen!" Tula and Feiqa, too, however, if it had to be known, had not been feeling too well. They were both sleeping in the back of the wagon. It had been with difficulty that Hurtha and I had managed to put them there. We would not have left them, of course. We were far to alert for that. Too, one does not leave Tulas and Feiqas simply lying about. They are far too desirable, far too luscious. To be sure, we had forgotten to chain them up last night, or rather, this morning, but neither, it seemed, as far as we could tell, had pondered escape.

"Oh!" cried Hurtha.

"Wait!" I said to Mincon.

"Here," I said to Hurtha, going to where he had stumbled off the road. I drew him up, with two hands, from the ditch. Fortunately it was not deep. "Hold to the side of the wagon," I advised him. He clutched it with both hands. In a moment we were again on our way.

"Drunken tarsks, all of you!" said Boabissia.

We were not drunk, of course. Last night, perhaps, we might have been a little drunk.

"Would you like some paga?" asked Hurtha, hospitably, clinging grimly to the wagon.

"No," I said.

"There is none left," said Boabissia.

"It is all gone?" asked Hurtha, in dismay.

"Yes," she Boabissia.

"All of it?" he pressed.

"Yes," she said.

I did not find this report disquieting.

"It is possible, of course," said Hurtha. "I am an Alar."

I heard Tula twist in the wagon, and groan. They had been lovely last night, in the firelight, naked, in their collars. More than once we had put down some ka-la-na for them, in pans. Too, particularly when they had licked and begged, and with sufficient fervor and skill, and prettiness, we had put dishes on the ground for them. It was only the first time, I think, that Tula was genuinely surprised when she found herself caught at her dish by Mincon. How incredibly beautiful and desirable are women. How marvelous are slaves!

"If you had listened to me," said Boabissia to Mincon, "we would have been on the road more than four Ahn ago!" I swung up to the wagon box I looked about in the wagon bed.

"We would then not be so far behind the others," she said. "Oh!" she said. Boabissia looked at me angrily.

"Good," said Mincon.

With my thumb I pressed the small sack more deeply into her mouth, until her lovely sometimes irritating oral orifice was well stuffed with it. The small sack had drawstrings. These I took to the sides and yanked back, drawing them deeply back between her teeth, and then knotted them tightly behind the back of her neck. I could not make out what she was saying.

"Be silent," I said to her.

She stopped saying whatever it was she was saying.

"You will leave this as it is," I said, "until one of the men with the wagon sees fit to remove it."

She looked at me.

"If you should remove it yourself, or attempt to do so," I said, "it will be promptly replaced, or resecured, and you will be stripped and put in slave bracelets, your hands behind your back. Furthermore, you will then be put on a rope and will follow the wagon, naked, and so braceleted and gagged, as might a slave. Do you understand? If so, nod, Yes."

Boabissia looked at me in fury. And then, tears in her eyes, she nodded. I then returned to the road.

"It is more peaceful now," said Hurtha.

Boabissia struck down at the lid of the wagon box, serving as her bench, with her small fists. But she did not attempt to dislodge the device by means of which, in accordance with the will of men, she had been silenced.

"Yes," I said.