Renegades of Gor

24 Port Cos

"There," said Calliodorus, standing on the bow deck, "is the pharos of Port Cos."

Aemilianus, standing now, but supported by Surilius, was there with us. Others, too, were about, such as the young warrior, Marcus, who had come days before to Port Cos, to obtain succor for the besieged of Ar's Station, and the young crossbowman and his friend, so young, and yet men by battle.

We looked at the tall, cylindrical structure which lay on a promontory, at the southwesternmost point of the harbor. It was perhaps one hundred and fifty feet high. It tapered upward, and was perhaps some twenty feet in diameter at the top. It was yellow and red, in horizontal sections, the colors of the Builders and Warriors, the Builders the caste that had supervised its construction and the Warriors the caste that maintained its facilities. It was as much a keep as a landmark. At night, in virtue of fires and mirrors, it served as a beacon. This morning a dispatch ship had been ushered through the advance ships, bringing news of some sort to Calliodorus. He had shared this with Aemilianus, it seemed. On the other hand, whatever might have been the contents of the sealed leather cylinder delivered into this hands with signs and countersigns I did not know. The dispatch ship had then hurried back, ahead of the flotilla, to Port Cos.

Two narrow beams, with attachment points for tackle, lay at the sides of the bow deck. There were mounts in which they could be inserted.

"I had never thought to come in this way to Port Cos," said Aemilianus. "Nor had I ever thought to go to Ar's Station in the capacity as I did," said Calliodorus.

Some men began to attach tackle, chains and harness, to the two beams.

I glanced at the face of the young man, Marcus, who had brought the ships of Port Cos, and, apparently, those of certain other towns, as well, to the aid of Ar's Station. His face seemed resolute, and grim. In his way, he was a hero, and yet, for all he had done, he, and those with him, of Ar's Station, were coming to this town, once their greatest rival on the Vosk, as refugees, with little more than the clothing on their backs. There was little left now of Ar's Station, I speculated. There were some men, and some women and children, and a flag, that and little else. To be sure, the Home Stone, somewhere, supposedly, survived. At least I hoped it did. That, to Goreans, would be extremely important. It had apparently been sent southward toward Ar. I suspected that if its departure from the city had been much delayed, perhaps even for a few days, it would not have been sent toward Ar. I did not think that those of Ar's Station now bore those of Ar much love.

"Out oars!" called the oar master, from his place before the helmsmen, aft. I heard the great. Counterweighted levers thrust through the thole ports. The oarsmen of Port Cos were in their best today, their tunics bright, their leather polished, their brimless, jaunty caps atilt on their heads. They were in high spirits. They were nearing home. They would cut quite a figure with the lasses of Port Cos, I was sure. Doubtless there would be crowds on the docks to welcome them.

Among these, too, I was sure there would be many girls in brief tunics and collars, waving and joyous, and not just girls released for the occasion from the taverns and brothels either, but from the shops, and the laundries and kitchens, and homes, for all over the city. Such makes a sailor's return even more joyous. Indeed, some of the girls would undoubtedly belong to one or another of the oarsmen. They would this be eagerly, joyously welcoming, almost beside themselves, not only returning heroes but their masters.

The slave girl within the city, incidentally, commonly receives a great deal of freedom. She normally can do much what she wants, and go much where she wishes. Her mobility and freedom in such respects is often much greater than that accorded to free women. This freedom and mobility does not matter greatly, of course, for she is branded and collared. To be sure, she is seldom allowed outside the walls of a city unless she is in the company of a free person. Similarly, if an appropriate free person is available, she must request permission to leave the house. At this time, she will probably also have the Ahn of her return specified for her. Similarly, if an appropriate free person is available, she must report in to that person, when she returns. It is better for her, incidentally, to report in before or at the time that has been specified for her. It is sometimes amusing to see these girls hurrying to get home in time. Many houses are strict about such matters. Being late can be a matter for discipline.

"That is the pharos," a mother told her child, holding him up to look. The refugees, save for some of the men, were glad enough, I think, to see the pharos, to know that the harbor of Port Cos was near. The harbor meant haven and refuse for them. The nightmare of the siege was over.

There was pleasure in the eyes of the free women. I had seen that even the briefly tunicked slave girls on deck, kneeling together amidships, properties of various masters on board, were eager, happy and excited. Among them, with no special sign of her status, as being the preferred slave of Aemilianus himself, was Shirley, only one slave among others.

The two beams, by fellows of Port Cos, were put in the mounts, the chains and harnesses pulled back inside, within the rail. They jutted out, on either side of the sloping, concave bow.

I saw those small ships which had been in our advance now slowing their progress. In a bit, they would be abeam, and later astern. Our ship, that of Calliodorus, the Tais, it seemed, would be the first ship into the harbor. I met the eyes of the young crossbowman and his friend. We smiled at one another, then looked apart. His name was Fabius. The name of his friend was Quintus. They were eager, it seemed, to see Port Cos. How marvelous, how remarkable, how astonishing is the resilience of youth! To look at them, and see their anticipation and eagerness, one would not have thought that they had endured trials that would have harrowed many a brave fellow, that they had stood on the wall, that they had served on the landing and near the piers. I had given each of them a handful of coins that they might buy themselves a girl in Port Cos, coins from those taken from the looter, met in the corridor of the citadel, leading out to the landing.

The advance ships were now astern.

"Stroke!" called the oar master.

The oars entered the water in unison, drew and rose, shining, dripping, from the river.

I looked again at the tall, cylindrical pharos. At night, its beacon aflame, the light multiplied and reflected in the mirrors, it could presumably be seen for pasangs up and down the river.

We were now, I conjectured, some three or four pasangs from the harbor. "Stroke!" called the oar master.

Calliodorus was near me. So, too, was Aemilianus, supported by Surilius. The ship was bedecked with flags and streamers. Conspicuous at the port stem line snapped a flag of Ar's Station. On The starboard stem line flew that of Port Cos. Aemilianus could not have asked for more honor. He was being conducted into Port Cos not as a piteous refugee but as a welcome and respected ally.

I went back over various things in my mind, the Crooked Tarn, the camp of the Cosians, the trenches, the approach to the wall, my captivity, my escape, the fighting at Ar's Station, the escape from the piers. How complex and desperate had become the world. I felt so small, like a particle adrift on a vast sea, beneath a vat sky, a particle taken here and there, at the mercy of the tides, the currents, the winds, not understanding. But there were compasses and landmarks, as palpable to me as the stars by which I might navigate on Thassa, as solid and undoubted as the great brick structure of he pharos of port Cos itself. There were the codes, and honor, and steel.

Two slaves were brought forward, to stand on the bow deck. I looked at one, whose name was Claudia. Then she lowered her eyes, timidly. I watched metal bonds placed on their wrists and ankles, these bonds attached to the chains running to the jutting beams. I watched their bodies fitted into the chain-and-leather harnesses, these harnesses also attached to the chains. The harnesses were then buckled shit and secured with small padlocks put through rings. They were then put prone on the bow deck, one on each side, their manacled wrists extended before them, over their head. The head of Claudia was turned to the left, her head between her arms; the head of Publia was turned to the right, her head between her arms.

I heard a drummer testing his instrument. I heard, too, some pipes.

Treason, of horrid and grand dimension, was abroad on Gor. I was confident, too, from long ago, it seemed now, from captured papers, taken in Brundisium, that I knew at least one of the participants in these treacheries, one who was perhaps an arch conspirator, one who was perhaps even the prime architect of these devious and insidious designs. And I, like a fool, who had had her once in my grasp, in Port Kar, had had her freed, even when she had mocked an scorned me, thinking me crippled, and had had her returned in honor and safety to Ar! I considered her. How insolent she had been. How high she had flown. I wondered what should be her fate.

We were now nearing the harbor.

I considered the face of the young warrior, Marcus, near me. How set it seemed, how grim.

"My place, now," said Calliodorus, "is on the stern castle." With a bow he withdrew.

A curule chair was brought for Aemilianus and set on the bow deck. Some of his high officers were gathered about him.

Various thoughts passed through my mind. I recalled lovely Phoebe, of Telnus, so slim, with her very dark hair, her very white skin. How lonely and unhappy she had been as a free woman! How right she looked, clad in the garments of a slave. Yet I had not enslaved her, but had kept her, to her frustration, merely as a full servant. On the morning I had gone to the trenches I had first taken her, clad only in a slave strip, to the wagon of my friend, Ephialtes, the sutler, met at the Crooked Tarn. I recalled the well-curved, auburn-haired Temione, of Cos, who had worked inside, in the paga room. Then there were the women I had met outside, chained beneath the eaves of the left wing, Amina, the Vennan, Elene, from Tyros, and Klio, Rimice, and Liomache, these latter three, like Temione, from Cos. The somewhat venal master of the Crooked Tarn had had the heads of all these shaved, to sell their hair for catapult cordage. I also recalled the slave, Liadne, whom I had used beneath her master's wagon, in the storm. It had amused me to have her put, once purchased for me by Ephialtes, over the free women on the chain, as first girl.

I had given Ephialtes my permission, of course, to do much with the women as he wished, for example, renting them, trading them, selling them, reducing them to bondage, and so on, as the conditions of the market might seem to make most judicious. I did not know, of course, if I would ever see him again. I had myself sold Elene and Klio in the trenches, in making my way toward the foot of the wall, at Ar's Station.

I had also, I recalled, met a fellow in the trenches who had been defrauded by a Liomache. I did not know if it were the same Liomache as he one on my chain, of course. I rather hoped for her sake that it was not. After the fall of Ar's Station the Cosian troops and their allies, mercenary and otherwise, would have much more freedom. Too, there might not be so many women available for the men, given the large numbers shipped west toward Brundisium, and other destinations, some destined doubtless even for the markets of Cos and Tyros themselves. Poor Liomache, held there on her chain, helpless, would be exposed to the scrutiny of anyone who passed by, and under the conditions, it was almost certain that several would pass by. If the fellow from the trench caught sight of her I pitied her. Her captivity, that of a free person would be almost certain to be promptly replaced with bondage, and a master into which clutches she might have most feared to fall.

I recalled, too, the bearded fellow from the Crooked Tarn who had so humiliated and scorned poor Temione, refusing even to be served by her. He did seem to be a rude chap. Too, I did not think he would have been too pleased with me, either, with how I had tricked him, and made away with his dispatches and his tarn. I had last seen him chained naked to a ring in the courtyard of the Crooked Tarn, unable, thanks to me, it seems, to pay his somewhat extravagant bills. I wondered if he had managed to secure redemption from some passing Cosian, perhaps a comrade in arms who might have recognized him. This seemed to me not unlikely. The Crooked Tarn was a likely stopping place for couriers, and such. It did not seem to me likely that I would meet that fellow again. That seemed to me just as well.

I saw some small boats, wreathed with garlands, coming out to meet the flotilla. They swarmed about. In them, men, and slave girls, clinging to the masts, kneeling in the stern sheets, waved. They would escort us into the harbor. "Gentlemen," said Aemilianus, from his curule chair, "as we are nearing Port Cos, it behooves me to speak plainly to you. Not all that I say will be welcome to your ears. Yet much of it you will have suspected.

"Speak, Commander," said a man.

I did not withdraw from the bow deck, as no one seemed to pay me much attention. Had they not wanted me there, or thought that I should not hear, surely I would have been advised of this. Too, I gathered that what was to be said, if secret now, would soon be common knowledge. Too, there were two or three fellows of Port Cos there, those who had set up the outjutting display beams, and would presumably handle the forward lines in wharfing. Too, of course, prone on the deck, in their shackles, their shackles and chain-and-leather harnesses attached to the beam chains, were the two slaves. No matters of prolonged moment would be likely to be discussed in the presence of such. Normally slave girls, with a snap of the fingers or a wave of the hand, are dismissed from an area when sensitive information is to be discussed. They then scurry away, until summoned back. Also, interestingly, they will usually take pains on their own behalf to avoid such areas. Total ignorance, they know, as they are mere slaves, is often in their best interests. If they hear too much they know that it is only too easy to dispose of them.

"What I tell you now," said Aemilianus, "is already common knowledge in Port Cos."

"But these things were brought by the dispatch boat this morning?" said a man. "Yes," said he, "and with the routines of the couriers of Port Cos, that we might learn them before we disembarked. But there is little here that I have not suspected, and that our friend, Calliodorus, recently, has not intimated to me, privately.

I recalled that Calliodorus, even on the first morning out from Ar's Station, after we had attended to the females, those who were now both slaves, and lay near us in their chains, had seemed ready, then not ready, to speak to Aemilianus of certain weighty matters, that he might have been considering conveying to him warnings, or perhaps confiding suspicions or misgivings. He had hesitated then, I suspected, because he was not yet sure of such matters, or, perhaps, because he had thought it wise to hold them in abeyance until his friend was stronger.

"Stand," said the keeper of the two slaves, one of the fellows of Port Cos, on the bow deck, to the two slaves. They stood up. He checked the chain and leather of their harnesses. He lifted their shackled wrists over their head, lifting with them part of the chair to which they were attached. Then he let them stand there, with their shackled wrists lowered, before them. He did adjust their posture, rudely, with a slap or two. Then they stood there, softly, beautifully erect, on the bow deck.

"Hail Port Cos!" cried a fellow in a small boat, off the bow to starboard. Behind him there stood a long-legged half-naked slave girl in a bit of a rag. "Hail Port Cos!" she cried, happily, waving. "Hail Port Cos!" She was rather nice. The collar looked well on her neck. I thought that she, too, might have been worthy to put at a prow. Seeing her, both Publia and Claudia stood even a little straighter, though apparently paying her no attention. One of the fellows on the bow deck waved to them. "Hail Port Cos!" he responded.

"We are coming to Port Cos," said Aemilianus. "That will seem to confirm the story circulating in Ar, which, I take it, is the official version of what occurred at Ar's Station."

"Speak, Commander," urged the young warrior, Marcus.

"It will be of interest to you to learn that Ar's Station was surrendered to Cos more than two months ago," he said, dryly, "before the relief forces could reach it. Lacking siege equipment that is why they did not proceed directly to Ar's Station but went into winter quarters."

"Ar's Station was never surrendered!" said a man.

"I do not understand," said another. "She fell but seven days ago this afternoon."

"Thousands must know the falsity of such allegations!" cried another man. "Not officially, not in Ar," said Aemilianus. "They know, on the whole, except for rumors, only what they are permitted to know. I suspect it would even be unwise o speak certain truths to Ar herself."

"I do not understand," repeated the fellow who had spoken before.

"The situation is reputed to stand thus," said Aemilianus. "Supposedly, over two months ago, I, and my high officers, and the caste officials, and councils of the city, treasonously, and without a fight, surrendered Ar's Station to a delegation of Cosians. In return for this perfidy we received much gold and were granted safe passage to Port Cos, within whose walls we are to receive domicile and security."

"Our arrival here will make it seem so!" cried a man.

"I fear so," said another.

"Would you rather return to the ashes of Ar's Station?" asked Aemilianus, bitterly.

"Surely those of Port Cos do not believe such lies!" cried a man.

"Of course not," said Aemilianus. "The truth is generally known her. It is in Ar, and the south, that it will not be known."

"Where have you learned of such matters? asked a man.

"Specifically, from the dispatches," said Aemilianus. "Cos, it seems, had many spies. Too, it seems she possesses swift, covert channels of communication. I do not doubt but what her work on the continent has been long in preparation. Naturally Cosians are in close contact with those of Port Cos, whose support to them is important on the river. I would not suppose that there is complete openness between them, but there seems to be no problem about sharing information of this sort."

"Captain Calliodorus takes these reports seriously?" asked a man.

"Yes," said Aemilianus. "Indeed, he had even anticipated, as I had, given the abandoning of Ar's Station by Ar, that matters might be construed in some such perspective."

"It seems the spies of Cos are efficient," said a fellow.

"It is said," said Aemilianus, "as Calliodorus has told me, that even a whisper in Ar is heard in Telnus by nightfall."

We were nearing the harbor.

There were clouds of small sails about us now, as many small boats had come out to meet us.

"Oh!" said Publia, as one of the fellows of Port Cos lifted her up lightly in his arms and threw her over the rail of the port side of the bow deck. There was a sound of chain, pulling against the beam ring, the links suddenly growing taut, and Publia, suspended from the beam, in her chain-and-leather harness, hung at the port side, out, about a yard from the rail, her feet now slightly below the level of the bow deck, over the water. There was a shout of pleasure from several of the small boats. Although her weight was substantially borne by the harness her small wrists were pulled high over her head, and held in place there, close to the chain, by her wrist shackles. Her ankles, too, were closely shackled. I considered her small hands. How piteous they appeared, so held in place, so helpless in their inflexible metal bonds. The steel, too, clasped her fair ankles, closely.

"There is more," said Aemilianus, bitterly. "We of Ar's Station, and those who abetted us, not surprisingly, given the falsified and distorted accounts of our actions, are held in official dishonor and contempt."

There were several cries of rage. Hands clasped the hilts of swords.

"The proclamations have been posted," he said.

One of the fellows of Port Cos then went to Claudia. She looked at me, wildly. Then she was lifted up, lightly, in the chain-and-leather harness. The fellow held her for a moment, his left hand behind her knees, his right hand behind her back. Her eyes were on mine, frightened. Then they widened, suddenly, and she gasped, and was thrown over the rail. Then, a moment later, her hands pulled high over her head, suspended in her harness, she hung off the starboard rail of the bow deck, as Publia did off the port rail. There was a cry of pleasure, and admiration, from several of the men about in the small boats. I saw her hands twist in the shackles, high above her head. Her body, suspended in the harness, swung a bit, and then turned from side to side, over the water. I glanced from her to Publia, and then back to her. I agreed with the shouts of pleasure and commendation from the small boats. Both slaves were excellent. Calliodorus was sure to be congratulated on his display.

"Is that the extend of the dispatches, Commander?" asked a man.

"It is perhaps as much as you should know now," said Aemilianus, grimly. "Commander!" protested a man.

"The occasion is festive," said Aemilianus. "Perhaps it is well that you learn the rest later."

"Please, Commander," said a man.

"The Home Stone has reached Ar," he said.

"Good," said a man, overjoyed.

"Better it had never done so," said Aemilianus.

"Commander!" said a fellow.

"It is under guard near the Central Cylinder, on the Avenue of the Central Cylinder," he said. "There it is exposed that the citizens of Ar, and any who please, may file past it and spit upon it."

"Vengeance!" cried the young warrior, Marcus.

"And we, of course, and all those who abetted us, have been pronounced renegades."

"Vengeance!" wept the young warrior, Marcus. His sword was out of its sheath. "Vengeance!" cried a man.

"Vengeance!" cried others.

There were cries of rage. Swords were drawn.

"Sheath your swords, beloved friends," said Aemilianus. "Let us now, upon this holiday, to be declared the day of the Topaz, put aside all thoughts of fury and blood. Rather hasten to brush your garments and put smiles upon your faces. Consider your mien. Upon your countenances, I beg you, this day, let there be only the appearance of joy. Let this day rightfully redound to the glory of Port Cos, our brethren of the river, and let us rejoice with them, and with ourselves, for our deliverance. Our gratitude has been richly deserved. Let us not be sparing in its exception. Surely you realize that the fidelity of Port Cos to the pledge of the Topaz may cost her greatly in the future."

"Those of Port Cos have proved better friends to us than those of Ar," said a man bitterly.

"Perhaps the river is its own place," said a man.

"Perhaps," said another.

I could hear music now, coming from the piers of Port Cos. As the bow swung about to enter the harbor I could see the piers were jammed with crowds in their holiday finery. It seemed all the caste colors of Gor might be there.

I heard the sudden crack of a long, plaited, single-bladed slave whip on the bow deck. The whip was in the hand of the fellow from Port Cos who, on the journey downriver, had acted as the keeper of the two slaves. Slaves are always, directly or indirectly, in the keeping of one free person or another. He had not struck anyone with the whip. He had only, so to speak, readied the tool. Publia had cried out, startled, and in misery. She knew what it was to feel the whip. Claudia had cried out, startled, but, too, in fear. She knew she was subject to it.

"Publia," said the keeper.

"Yes, Master!" she cried.

"Claudia," said he.

"Yes, Master!" she cried.

He then, gently, lightly, with a small movement of the wrist, little more than a toss, snaked the whip out to the port side. Its single blade harmlessly but meaningfully more than encircled Publia. She shuddered. He then repeated this action to starboard.

"When I speak, you will attend to me," he said.

"Yes, Master!" said Publia.

"Yes, Master!" said Claudia. "Beloved friends," said Aemilianus, "prepare yourselves to be received by our friends of Port Cos."

Swords were sheathed.

Most of those about Aemilianus then withdrew from the bow deck. Surilius remained, and the young warrior, Marcus, and some others. I, too, remained. "Surely Ar herself will cry out for vengeance," I said, "for the loss of Ar's Station, her pride upon the Vosk."

"Such seems to be the spirit in the northern camp of Ar," said Aemilianus. "This you have, too, from the dispatches?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"The forces of Ar in the north," I said, should move south with rapidity, before the spring, to engage the main power of Cos. Were it not for the action of Dietrich of Tarnburg at Torcadino, she would already be at the gates of Ar." "But they will not do so, will they?" asked Aemilianus.

"They must do so," I said.

"They are apparently intent upon destroying the Cosian expeditionary force in the north," said Aemilianus.

"That would seem easy enough to do," said Marcus, bitterly. "Although the Cosians outnumbered us ten to one, their numbers would be no match for what, I gather, is nearly the full might of Ar."

"Even so, they might not have as easy a time of it as they think," said Aemilianus. "They think that force has been in winter quarters, like themselves, though at Ar's Station. They do not realize it is battle burdened, that it has been in action for months."

"But if you were the Cosian commander in the north," I said to Aemilianus, "you would surely, if possible, avoid engaging the main body of Ar."

"True," said Aemilianus.

"He will not be able to do so," said Marcus. "Ar's northern forces are interposed between Ar's Station and Brundisium. They could also cut off a retreat to Torcadino."

"It would seem so," said Aemilianus.

"It would be difficult for them to cross the river, to the north," said Marcus, "and, even so, they could be followed. Too, they are unlikely to withdraw to the terrain of the Salerian Confederation, for it will not wish to risk war with Ar. If they try to intrude by force into those territories they could well find themselves between the Salerians and Ar. The fate of the Cosians in the north is a foregone conclusion."

"Few conclusions in war, my eager young friend," said Aemilianus, "are foregone."

"With all due respect, Commander," said Marcus. "Ar's position in the north is ideal for destroying the expeditionary force."

"But they would have to encounter it first," said Aemilianus.

"It is an army," said Marcus, "not ten men traveling at night." "Cos controls the skies," said Aemilianus.

"Even so," protested Marcus.

"It would not surprise me," said Aemilianus, quietly, "if the expeditionary force slipped past the men of Ar."

"Between the winter camp and the southern back of the Vosk," I said. "Precisely," said Aemilianus, grimly.

"That is absurd," said Marcus. "They would be pinned against the river. It would be a slaughter."

"But only if they were caught," said Aemilianus.

"No sane commander would elect such a route," said Marcus.

"Unless he knew something which you do not," said Aemilianus.

"The whole idea is absurd," said Marcus.

"Is it any the less absurd," asked Aemilianus, "that Ar should have been digging latrines in winter camp while the walls of Ar's Station were crumbling?" "But Ar might still be apprised of these movements in time to interpose herself between the expeditionary force and its base at Brundisium," said Marcus, slowly. "Thus, to what end west?"

"What lies west of the Vosk," asked Aemilianus.

"On the southern bank, Ven," said Marcus. Turmus, which is the last major town west on the Vosk, is on the northern bank.

"And what beyond Ven? asked Aemilianus.

"The delta," said Marcus.

"Precisely," said Aemilianus. "I do not think I understand these things," said Marcus, slowly. "I hope that I do not either," said Aemilianus. "But I am afraid, terribly afraid."

"In the fall," I said, "I spoke with Dietrich of Tarnburg, in Torcadino. He had similar apprehensions."

"I understand nothing of this," said Marcus.

"You are young in the ways of war," said Aemilianus. "Not everything in war is nodding plumes and the sun flashing from silvered clouds."

"If Ar is in danger," he said, "she must be warned."

"By renegades?" asked Aemilianus.

"Renegades?" he asked.

"Surely," said Aemilianus. "I, you, the others, all of us, we have all be pronounced renegades."

"Should Ar not be warned?" he asked.

"And what do you think we, we who were abandoned by Ar, we whom she holds in dishonor and contempt, we whose Home Stone she spits upon, we whom she has pronounced renegades owe to her-a€”now?"

"We own her nothing," said Marcus, bitterly. "But I would still see her warned." "And so, too, would I," said Aemilianus, smiling. "So, too, would I." "But of what is she to be warned?" he asked.

"And to whom would you speak?" I asked.

"We do not know for certain what is going to happen," said Aemilianus. "At the moment we have little but our suspicions, our fears."

"Ar will destroy the Cosians in the north, and then destroy them in the south," said Marcus.

"Quite possibly," said Aemilianus.

"Then there is nothing to do," he said, slowly.

"Not now," said Aemilianus.

We were now within the harbor at Port Cos. The piers were some three hundred yards away, jammed with people. Music came from them. Pennons waved. The pharos on its promontory was behind us now, to port, something like a pasang away. The flotilla, entering the harbor, with its flags and streamers, would be a splendid sight. Already, too, from the piers, it would be able to be seen that the two slaves hung from the outjutting display beams on either side of the concave bow of the Tais.

"Do not concern yourself now about such matters," said Aemilianus to the young warrior. "Rejoice now. We have come safe to Port Cos."

The slave whip snapped again, loudly, sharply, unmistakable in its definition and authority. The two girls cried out again, startled. Publia jerked in her harness as though she might have been struck, but it had not touched her. Claudia, too, winced, but, too, it had not touched her.

"Publia, Claudia!" said the keeper.

"Yes, Master!" said Publia.

"Yes, Master!" said Claudia.

"You, Publia," he said, "prepared well to surrender yourself to Cosians." "Yes, Master," she wept.

"You, Claudia," he said, "were a traitress to your city."

"Yes, Master," she wept.

"And you are not both slaves," he said.

"Yes, Master!" they said.

"And so," he said, "you will enter Port Cos as the slaves, and sluts, you are." "Master?" asked Publia.

"The movements of your hips, and your squirmings and glances," he said, "will leave no doubt as to the fittingness of your bondage."

"Master!" wept Publia, in protest.

"Please, no, Master!" called Claudia.

"Your movements for the most part," said the keeper, "will be slow and sensuous, but terribly meaningful, sexually. These may be mixed upon occasion with sudden, perhaps surprising, movements, almost spasmodic, or spasmodic, in nature. I trust that you understand these things. If there is difficulty in the matter it may perhaps be clarified by the whip."

Publia threw back her head and wept, in the harness.

"You, Publia, first," he said. He then required of her a variety of forward and backward movements of the lower belly, and then lateral movements of the hips. These things ranged, in their varieties, from almost imperceptible extensions and shadings, to sharp, forward thrusts, such as bumps and buckings, and from scarcely detectible lateral movements, to tantalizing or abrupt movements, to rhythmical swayings. He had Claudia, too, do these things. "Now," said he, "consider transitions among such movements." My hands clenched on the rail. The slaves were beautiful. "Now," said he, "slow, rotatory movements of the hips, slow, agonizingly slow, grinding movements!" I thought that many on the piers might have to hurry their own girls home, if they could make it that far. I was almost in pain.

"Well done, girls," said the keeper. "And do not forget the beauty of your breasts, and your squirmings, your glances and smiles."

Publia cried out in misery.

We were now something like a hundred yards from the piers. Two of the fellows on the bow deck already had the forward lines in hand.

"It has been decided, slaves," said the keeper to them, "hat you will be sold at auction. In order, however, that you come into the keeping of Cosians, attendance at the auction, save by sales personnel, will be limited to Cosians. After a Cosian buys you, of course, he can do with you what he wants. We are now nearing the pier. I will point out various Cosians in the crowd, for there will be several. They are recognizable by their habiliments. You will then direct your glances and your movements particularly to them. Be pretty. Arouse interest in yourselves. We want them sweating blood when they bid for you!"

Aemilianus was already raising his hand to the crowds. There was much cheering. "Look!" cried a fellow on the dock, pointing to the slaves.

"Yes!" said a man. "Yes!" cried another.

"Sensuous sluts!" laughed a man.

Claudia cried out with misery, but did not cease to move.

As so many were waving to us, I, too, with many of the others, at the starboard rail, waved back.

All seemed a riot of music and color.

"There," said the keeper, gesturing with his whip, as we drew alongside the pier. "There is a fellow of Cos! Present yourselves to him! You are female slaves! Do it! And there is another!"

"I am not such a girl!" suddenly cried Claudia. Then she threw back her head and shrieked, as the lash, like lightning and fire, struck about her body.

She dangled and jerked in the harness, sobbing, though she had been struck but once.

"I am such a girl!" cried Publia, fervently, seeing the keeper turn toward her. "I am such a girl!"

"If she is recalcitrant, or not pleasing," cried slave girls on the pier, "strike her! Strike her! Punish her! Punish her! Punish her severely!" Slave girls, kept under strict discipline themselves, they wanted it imposed on others with the same authority, exactness and perfection that it was imposed upon them. They were deeply concerned that Claudia not be permitted to get away with anything, no more than they. Was she, too, not a slave girl? Thus, interestingly, it is often slave girls themselves who are most zealous to see that masters are strict with their slaves. ' The keeper turned back toward Claudia.

"I, too, am such a girl!" she cried out, wildly, swinging in the harness. Clearly she did not wish another blow from the disciplinary instrument. Yet, too, I think that the matter was far deeper than that, and this became clear but an instant later. The chain-and-leather harness, incidentally, is muchly open. That is what one would expect, considering its display purposes. On the other hand, a consequence of this openness, also, of course, is that it affords little, or no, protection, from the slave whip. Claudia swung in the harness to face me. Our eyes met. "Yes!" she cried. "Yes! I am such a girl!" "You are," I assured her.

"Yes!" she wept. "Yes!"

I saw then that her small rebellion had been no more than a foolish sop to her pride, one perhaps she thought in order, I wondered if she had uttered her silly noise only because I was there, who had known her when she was a mere free woman. I hoped not. But in any case, whether because of her own pride, in itself, or her concern that I who had known her as a free woman was about, or because of the strangers in the crowd, or the other slave girls, or whatever, how woefully out of place was the absurd utterance in her new reality! But then I saw in her eyes, she half laughing, half crying, that whatever had been her motivation, whether some or all of the things I had wondered about, or even others, that she had only wanted the reassurance of the whip, the reassurance of the inflexibility of the will of men, that she must now obey, and was truly a slave. Moving as she did, and being what she was, a slave, was the deepest and most wonderful thing in her being, and she reveled in it, and loved it! She had wanted only the clear understanding that she must now surrender to it, that she was now truly a slave. She was elated in the harness.

"There!" said the keeper, pointing out a fellow with the coiled whip. She swung about. "Am I pretty, Master?" she cried. "Will you bid upon me?" "Bid upon me!: cried Publia to him. "I need a collar and a man!"

"There is another," said the keeper.

"Perhaps it will be you who will own me?" called Claudia to him.

The forward lines were cast to fellows on the pier. Ina moment they were made fast to mooring cleats.

There was much cheering, and waving, and calling out, between the pier and the railing. Drums and pipes on board the Tais sounded. A plank was being run out to the pier. The following ships in the flotilla, scarcely less resplendent than the Tais herself would, in moments, in turn, take their own berths.

"What manner of slaves are those?" called a fellow on the pier, apparently, by his garb, a Cosian, to the keeper on the bow deck. "Are they common slaves?" "They are as common as you will have them!" shouted back the keeper. "They are not branded, are they?" asked the fellow. "They are not collared!" "Such details will be soon attended to," laughed the keeper.

I did not doubt it. Goreans are efficient about such matters. For an instant Publia, startled, and Claudia, frightened, stopped writhing in the harnesses. It was, after all, their own branding and collaring of which the men were speaking! "Move," growled the keeper.

Then again they moved, frightened, obedient slave girls.

There was laughter from the pier. "Wriggles!" called out a slave girl to them.

"Squirm! Squirm, Kajirae!" called out another.

"Do you not know how to squirm?" laughed another girl.

"How is it that these two are at the prow?" called another fellow.

"They squirm well," said a man.

"Writhea€”writhea€”more slowly," said the keeper to them.

"Aiii!" cried a man.

"How is it that these two are at the prow?" called the fellow again. "Stop," said the keeper to the two slaves. Motionless were they then, their arms high, their bodies beautifully elongated, stretched out, suspended from the outjutting beams in the shackles and harness.

"Beautiful!" cried a man.

The keeper then, with his coiled whip, in two expansive gestures, one to port, one to starboard, indicated, and called attention to, the lineaments of the figures of the two lovely slaves. "Can you not guess?" he asked the fellow who had asked the question.

"Yes!" said the fellow.

"Are they not worthy to be at the prow?" asked the keeper.

"They are!" called out more than one man. And they were worthy not only because of the beauty of their figures, so well displayed, but because of their facial beauty as well.

I saw a slave girl in her skimpy tunic, scarcely a rag on her, nuzzling a fellow, rubbing her face and head against his left shoulder. She was trying to distract him from the suspended slaves. She was urging a consideration of her own not inconsiderable charms upon his attention.

"But perhaps, too, there is another reason!" hinted the keeper.

"Oh?" asked his questioner.

"This one was call "Publia, " said the keeper, "and this one "Claudia. " As he said these names, he reached out, and, in turn, Publia first, flicked each of them with the whip. At this touch, even as light and playful as it was, each of them recoiled in dread. Both had now felt the whip at one time or another, indeed, Claudia only a moment ago. There was more laughter. "They were both free women of Ar's Station," continued the keeper. "Publia dressed in such a way that her caste, that of the Merchants, would be concealed."

A Cosian merchant in the crowd cried out in anger.

"And that none would know she was wealthy!" said the keeper.

"She is not wealthy now!" cried a man.

"Let her now serve the wealthy!" called out a well-dressed fellow.

"Or serve a master of low caste," called out a fellow in the garb of the metal workers, "with the same or greater perfections than would be required of her in a high house!" I smiled. A great deal, indeed, is expected in low-caste domiciles of slaves who were formerly of high caste. To be sure, they no longer have caste then, of any sort. Even the lowest of castes is then undreamt-of heights above them, for in such houses they are only animals.

"She was determined to survive the fall of Ar's Station, whatever might prove to be the fate of her sisters in the city," said the keeper.

There were cries of anger.

"Thus, by such means as provocative dress and habiliments, baring even her calves, hoping then to be taken for a lowly, beautiful, meaningless maid, by even refusing to cut her hair on behalf of the city's needs, an act by means of which she hoped to appear more attractive to strong men, more attractive than might her sheared sisters, and a lack which, incidentally, as you can see, has been made up upon her, and by carrying gold with her, not shared with her sisters, with which she hoped to bribe captors to spare her for a nose ring and cord, she gave great attention to the readying of herself for a Cosian master." There was much laughter.

"And thus," said the keeper, lifting the whip, "we think it is only appropriate that her planning not have gone for naught. It is to a Cosian, some Cosian, that she will be sold!"

Men, hearing this, slapped their thighs with pleasure. Slave girls, too, laughed.

"I am a Cosian!" called out a fellow. He, to be sure, did not wear the habiliments of Cos.

"Perhaps, then," said the keeper, "yours will be the collar she will wear!" "Perhaps," he laughed.

"And this one," said the keeper, indicating Claudia, "betrayed her compatriots, declared for Cos and took Cosian gold for treason!"

"But she is a slave now?" called a man.

"Yes," said he keeper.

"Traitress!" cried a fellow, angrily, one in the habiliments of Cos. Claudia looked wildly at the keeper. He nodded. He would permit her to speak. "I regret what I did!" cried Claudia. "And I am only a slave now! Please have mercy on a slave!"

"She, too," said the keeper, "it to be sold to a Cosian."

"Traitress!" cried a Cosian. "Traitress!" cried another.

"perhaps I will buy you!" cried another. "The whips in my house lash hard!" "I will try to be pleasing, Master!" she wept.

It was very hard to hear now. The drums and pipes aboard the Tais were sounding. There was other music, too, here and there, from the piers, greeting other ships. There was much shouting, and calling, and raillery, between the piers and ships.

Aemilianus, pausing now and then to wave to the crowd, and partly supported by Surilius, and most of those with him were conducted back from the bow deck. Calliodorus, I suspected, had now left the stern castle and was awaiting his friend, Aemilianus, amidships. Aemilianus, who had commanded at Ar's Station, it seemed, would be the first to disembark. I, and some others, including the young warrior, Marcus, remained where we were. In a few moments, then, to drums and pipes, and cheers, I saw Aemilianus, unsupported, but obviously weak, make his own way down the gangplank. Behind him were Calliodorus and Surilius. Aemilianus and Calliodorus, and other officers, were embraced by several fellows wearing medallions of office at the foot of the gangplank.

Following this official party, so to speak, the refugees of Ar's Station disembarked, a few clutching tiny bundles containing meager belongings, and some of their other belongings following timidly, on their own bare feet. Much of the crowd, in a few Ehn, then, had followed the procession of officials and officers, and refugees, and properties, from the wharf. Oars were inboard, stowed. Oarsmen and sailors now, save for a watch, weapons and sea bags over their shoulders, entering upon their leaves, and other fellows, their service now discharged, passed down the gangplank. Reunions were common and often demonstrative, those with relatives and friends, those of companions, those of masters with eager, scantily clad, loving slaves. Much the same sort of thing was occurring elsewhere, at other piers.

"It was a good voyage," said the keeper, reaching out with a staff and hook to draw Publia, by the chain from which her harness was suspended, close to the rail.

"Yes," I said.

When Publia had been drawn closer to the rail two other fellows reached out and pulled her to the bow deck where they knelt her, in the shackles, in the harness, still attached to the chain. In a moment he, and the others, similarly, had retrieved Claudia and she, too, knelt on the bow deck.

"I gather," said the keeper, "that you have had some relationship, or something to do, with these two slaves.

"Yes," I said.

"Slaves," said the keeper.

"Yes, Master," said Publia.

"Yes, Master," said Claudia.

"You may bid him farewell," said the keeper, "in a manner suitable for slaves." "I wish you well, Master," said Publia, humbly, kneeling before me in her shackles and harness, putting down her head, kissing my feet.

"I wish you well, slave," I said.

Claudia then, too, as had Publia, was kneeling before me. She, too, put down her head. "I, too, wish you well, Master," she said. She then softly, delicately, kissed my feet.

"I wish you well, slave," I said.

The young warrior, Marcus, was not looking toward the piers, or the town, ascending from the harbor. His attentions seemed to be outward, and back, toward the entrance of the harbor.

I looked back to the pier. Here and there, lingering, some four or five of them, were slave girls.

The keeper was now crouching by Publia. He freed her wrist shackles from the chain and then her wrists from the shackles. He then pulled her small wrists behind her back and locked them there, in slave bracelets. He then, similarly, removed her ankle shackles from the chain and then freed her ankles from the shackles themselves. He then removed her harness. He similarly handled Claudia.

"You do not seem eager to see Port Cos," I said to the young warrior. "Where," asked he, "do you think the northern forces of Ar are?" "South of the river," I said, "back, to the east, somewhere."

"The expeditionary force of Cos will never be able to slip between then and the river," he said.

"Perhaps not," I said.

"It would be impossible," he said.

"Perhaps," I said.

I turned about. A fellow had brought two slave hoods and a neck chain, it appeared to be about five feet in length, terminating at each end with a collar. I watched while Publia was turned about and set, kneeling, before the kneeling Claudia. Claudia's neck was the first locked in the collar. Publia appeared apprehensive, but did not dare turn about. The second collar was locked on her neck. The two slaves were now linked together. The chain was, indeed, some five feet in length. Claudia's eyes, frightened, met mine. Then she was hooded, and the hood straps, beneath her chin, drawn snug, and buckled shut, behind the back of her neck. In a moment Publia, too, similarly, had been hooded. Publia was then drawn to her feet by an arm and conducted back, through the passage between the starboard rail and the stem castle, back amidships, to the gangplank, Claudia, responding to the cues of the chain, helpless in the hood, with tiny steps, hurrying behind.

I looked toward the pharos, on the promontory. Its light at night could be see, it was said, pasangs east and west on the river.

"What are you thinking of?" I asked the young warrior, Marcus.

"Of vengeance," he said, bitterly, "and loyalty."

"An odd juxtaposition of thoughts," I commented.

I then turned about and watched Publia and Claudia, hooded, naked, on their common chain, their wrists braceleted behind them, being herded along the pier, among boxes and bales. Beyond the pier, abutting on harborside wharfage, there were numerous buildings, mostly shops, such as those of sailmakers, oarmakers and sawyers, and warehouses, and, here and there, between these buildings, narrow streets, stretching up toward the city. I expected that they would be herded up one of these streets to the house of some slaver or other. They would have very little idea, at this time, of what Port Cos was like. Their hoods would be removed, presumably, only in the slaver's house. They would be very helpless, and muchly disorientated. Later, perhaps never having been given access to a window, or never having been outside unhooded, they would find themselves auctioned. From that time on, what was permitted to them would be determined by their master.

"I am angry," said the young man, perhaps more to himself than to me. "Why is that?" I asked.

"There are many things I do not understand," he said.

"There are many things which none of us understand," I said.

"I am bitter," he said.

"Because war is not all nodding plumes and the sun flashing from silvered shields?" I asked, recalling the words of Aemilianus.

"Perhaps," he said.

I looked to the pier. There were still some slave girls there. I now saw three. Two were bare-breasted.

"Put dark thoughts from you," I said. "You have come safe to Port Cos. Rejoice. See the city. Come, if you like, and sup with me. Let us see what Port Cos has to offer in the way of enslaved females. She is noted, like Victoria, and certain other towns, for excellent wares in that respect."

"I thank you," said he. "But go on without me."

"You are a hero, and a warrior," I said. "Surely you do not mind squeezing luscious female flesh, branded and collared, in your arms."

"Outrage a treachery and blood, and confusion, and hatred, are now in my thoughts," he said, "not the belled, perfumed bodies of female slaves.: "Yes," said I, "such are pleasant, crawling and licking about your feet and legs, looking up at you, begging to please. Make use of them. Use them for recreation. They are your due.: "No," said he.

"It is hard to suppose that you would not be pleased to see them dancing before you, in the beads and chains of slaves."

"It is on less pleasant things that my thoughts now dwell," he said. "For some," I said, "you might give your purse, and even draw your sword, to take them from the auction block."

"I do not have such feelings now," he said.

"Some," I said, "the curvy little sluts, in their collars, can make you scream with pleasure."

He was silent, looking to the east.

"It is hard to lose ideals," I said. "But sometimes one can purchase them back, by deeds, in a new form." I recalled the delta of the Vosk, I recalled Torvaldsland.

He was silent.

"I wish you well," I said.

"I wish you well," he said.

I then went back, amidships, and gathered up a sea bag and a few articles, a shaving knife, and such, which I had purchased on the ship from one or another of the good fellows of Port Cos. Then, my blade over my shoulder, I lifted my hand to the deck officer and took leave of the Tais.

I had scarcely set foot on the pier when the three girls came quickly forward, and knelt down.

"Come to the Dina!" said the first. "All our girls are dinas!" She turned her left thigh to me and drew up her tunic, showing me the dina brand. The dina is a small, roselike flower. It is popularly called the "slave-flower." The dina brand, or slave-flower brand, is a common one on Gor.

"Come to the Veninium!" said the second. The veminium is a delicate, five-petaled blue flower common in both the northern and southern hemispheres of Gor. "We are not so expensive!" The use of the veninium, as a name for the tavern, given the widely spread range of the flower was perhaps supposed to suggest affordable beauty. The second and the third girls were the one who were bare-breasted. "My master's tavern is the Larma!" said the third.

I smiled. The larma is luscious. It has a rather hard shell but the shell is brittle and easily broken.

Within, the fleshy endocarp, the fruit, is delicious, and very juicy. Sometimes, when a woman is referred to as a "larma," it is suggested that her hard or frigid exterior conceals a rather different sort of interior, one likely to be quite delicious. Once the shell has been broken through or removed, irrevocably, there is, you see, exposed, soft, vulnerable, juicy and helpless, the interior, in the fruit, the fleshy endocarp, in the woman, the slave.

"Are all the paga taverns in Port Cos named for flowers or fruits? I asked. "No!" laughed the first.

"Surely there is a connection," I said, "through ownership or tradition?" "Many towns have a tavern of dinas, Master," said the first.

"That is true," I granted her.

"'Veminium' is a pretty name," said the second.

"True," I said. "Incidentally, what is the point of the name? Is it to suggest that the girls there, like the veminia, are cheap and pretty?"

The second girl, she from the Veminium, gasped, suddenly, laughing, putting her hand before her Mouth. "I do not know!" she said, looking at the others, scandalized, laughing. "I never thought of it! Perhaps, Master!"

"And are all the girls there cheap and pretty?" I asked.

"I think we are pretty," she laughed. "I do not know if we are so cheap." I smiled. I had wondered if perhaps the name had not been chosen more to lure fellows inward, than to supply an objective assessment of the commercial competitiveness of the contained services and merchandise.

"There are many paga taverns in Port Cos, Master," said the first. "Not all are named for flowers or fruits. There is the Cage, the Jewels of Telnus, Artemidorus' Cargo, the Secret Basement, the Hold, the Scarlet Whip, the Tavern of the Collar of the Two Chains, and many others."

"I am pleased to hear it," I said. "I take it that you are all friends." "Yes, Master," said the first. "The Veminium and the Larma are owned by brothers," said the first. "They are near one another," said the second.

I was pleased to hear these things. The girls were friends, which suggested they might be from similar style and level institutions. Certainly girls from high taverns and from low taverns seldom consort with one another. And two of the places were owned by brothers and were near one another. These were connections, at least of some sort.

"And what of the girls at the Larma?" I asked. "Are they expensive?" "We, like those at the Dina and Veminium, are affordable," she said. "Our uses go much for the standard prices."

"Were the girls at the Larma all once larmas?" I asked.

"I suppose some, Master," laughed the third girl.

"Were you a larma?" I asked her.

"No, Master," she laughed. "I have known that I was a slave since puberty, and I never pretended to be otherwise, perhaps because I feared someone might see through me and beat me."

"Of what caste were you? I asked.

"Of the Peasants," she said. "We had too many daughters, too few sons. Two of my older brothers had already been sold into slavery before I was fifteen. One autumn my father's fields again failed. We were starving. I begged him to sell me. He then beat me, and bound me, and sold me."

"You are happy as a slave?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," she said. "It is what I am, and want to be. I hope only that someday I may have a private master, a love master, to whom I may be his devoted and obedient love slave."

"You long," I asked, "for a master who is strong, and love?"

"Yes, Master," she said.

She was a pretty young thing. She had very dark hair and very light skin, and, for a girl who had once been of the Peasants, was surprisingly slim. She reminded me a little of Phoebe, from Telnus, whom I had left on the coffle with the remainder of the debtor sluts I had redeemed, and obtained, at the Crooked Tarn, Temione, Amina, Rimice and Liomache.

"Master!" she said. I had put down the sea bag and, crouching before her, lifted back the beads about her body.

"Are you typical of the girls at the Larma?" I asked her.

"I think so, Master," she said.

"You are, of course, soliciting for your master's tavern," I said. "Yes, Master," she said.

"But are you, yourself, rentable?" I asked.

"Of course, Master," she said.

"And what of you others?" I asked.

"Yes, Master," said the dina.

"Of course, Master, said the girl from the Veminium.

"Ho, Warrior," I said, getting up, addressing the young fellow, Marcus, who had only now descended the gangplank and was going to make his way up the pier, toward the warehouses, the shops, the town.

He turned to regard us, and I beckoned that he should join us.

"Line up," I said to the kneeling slaves. "Straighten your backs, get your knees wider."

Then they were indeed presented as an excellent display of slaves.

The young warrior looked upon them.

"What do you think of them?" I asked. I thought they would make a nice set." "They are appealing," he said.

His interest encouraged me. He needed a woman, and the best of such are slaves. "Who are you?" I asked the slaves.

"Roxanne, of the Dina, slave of Simonides, taverner of Port Cos," said the first.

"Korinne, of the Veninium, slave of Agathocles, taverner of Port Cos," said the second.

Yakube, of the Larma, slave of Panicrates, taverner of Port Cos," said the third.

"That is a Tahari name," said Marcus, looking at her closely. Indeed, of the three women it was she, the young slave from the Larma, to whom he seemed most drawn, in whom he seemed most interested. She was, I gathered, as I presumed they did not know one another, a type of woman whom he found extremely and excitingly attractive, a sort toward whom he seemed powerfully, perhaps almost irresistibly drawn. I was pleased to see his interest in her, as I hoped that she, or she and another, or she and the others, might distract him from his moody reflections. Slaves are excellent at relaxing a man, and giving him happiness. But something in his tone of voice had been menacing, and chilling. "Yes, Master," said the girl, hesitantly. She was clearly aware of the implicit menace in his tone. Slave girls are extremely sensitive to such things. I could see that she was frightened.

"But you are not of the Tahari, are you? he asked.

"No, Master," she said. Her coloring, of course, did not suggest that of a woman native to the Tahari region. Many males of the Tahari, of course, are fond of fair-skinned slaves, and such, shipped south and east, bring excellent prices in their markets. Thereafter they learn to serve their dark masters well, within the recesses of the cool, white buildings of the oases and cities, and out on the desert, in the tents. In such places they learn the wearing of the garments of the Tahari, and, if the master pleases, the stride-measuring ankle chains of the area, worn even by many free women. It is expected, too, that they will quickly become adept in the manifold labors of the Tahari woman, and, in particular, in their cases, those of the Tahari slave woman. In the latter respect, swiftly are the many meanings of the submission mat taught to them, where their slavery in their master's house or tent begins, but is not likely to end. To it they may be from time to time returned.

"Why do you have a Tahari name?" he asked.

"It was given to me, Master," she said.

This sort of thing is not all that unusual. For example, last fall, after accepting her as a slave, I had named the former Lady Charlotte of Samnium "Feiqa." Which is a Tahari name. The name, which I had soon determined, had done wonders for new understanding of herself, and for her sexuality. To be sure, much depends on the woman. certain names on Gor tend to be used almost exclusively as slave names, such as Dina, Lita, Lana, Tafa, Tela, Tula, and so on. Perhaps because of the commonness and simplicity of such names, as well as their exciting beauty, many girls respond quite well to them. Many masters, in acquiring a slave, will change her name that she may understand that she is now, in effect, beginning her life anew. Indeed, some masters, even with the same girl, and not simply as a matter of discipline or reward, may change her name, to startle her, to impress their will upon her, and, perhaps, to freshen their relationship, she understanding, in effect, that she must now begin anew.

"It is not to disguise another name?" he asked.

"No, Master," she said.

He regarded her.

I did not understand his seeming anger, his seeming suspicion.

"I have worn many names, Master," she said. "I am a slave. Men name me, as is fitting for me, as they please."

"Are you a bred slave?Э he asked.

"Not in the legal sense of the term, Master," she said.

"Speak clearly," he said.

"Though I am a natural slave," she said, "there was a time when I was not a legal slave. I was once, in the eyes of the law, a free woman,"

"What was your name, when you were free?" he asked.

She squirmed beneath his gaze, which was like edged steel. I was sure she wished that she might reach up and bring the strands of beads, which I had lifted and thrown back, about her collar, that they might dangle behind her, obscuring the less my vision of her loveliness, back again before her, as though such tiny, colorful objects might protect her to some extent from that imperious scrutiny. But she did not dare to lift her hands from her thighs where, in one of the common positions of the pleasure slave, they now reposed. I had little doubt but what their palms were sweating. She moved her knees a little further apart, presumably in an effort to make clear her desire to be pleasing. How lovely her throat looked in its closely fitting steel collar.

"Prokne," she said.

His eyes blazed.

She trembled. She knew, of course, from his insignia, that he had come from Ar's Station.

His hands went to his belt, and she shrank back. I though that perhaps he was considering it, to lash her.

"Are you from Cos?" he asked. "No, Master!" she said. "The fields of my father were north of White Water!"

White Water is called such because of rapids in its vicinity. It is a ton on the northern back of the Vosk. It is a member of the Vosk League. It is the first major town west of Lara, which is located at the confluence of the Vosk and Olni. Lara is the westernmost city in the Salerian Confederation. White Water is east of Ar's Station. There are three major towns between Ar's Station and White Water. They are Forest Port, Iskander and Tancred's Landing, which three towns, like White Water, are members of the Vosk League.

Most of the major towns on the Vosk are on the northern bank. This is undoubtedly because of a one-time policy of Ar to maintain a margin of desolation to the north, one stretching to the river, across which is would be difficult for an invader to bring an army. The major route south was then, as it is now, the Viktel Aria, which by means of its camps and posts, Ar then controlled. Thus, supposedly, Ar could move north with ease, but it would be difficult for other forces to move south, unless challenging Ar for the Viktel Aria. The margin of desolation however, has not been maintained for years. Its military significance declined with the development of large-scale tarn transport, capable of supplying troops in the field. Too, as Ar's population increased she began to move northward. Indeed, her interests in the Vosk Basin are well known. In the past few years, particularly under the governance of Marlenus of Ar, the policies of Ar have tended to be expansionistic.

Accordingly, it seems clear that in time the strategists of Ar came to view the margin of desolation less as a rampart than a barrier.

"Such names," he said, "are not so common east on the river."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You are a long way from White Water," he said.:Yes, Master," she said.

I saw his hand tighten on the belt, near its buckle. This was not lost on the slave, either.

"You came from the vicinity of White Water?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"With a name like "Prokne'?"

"Yes, Master," she said. "I wonder if you are lying," he said.

"No, Master," she said. "I am not lying! The slave, Yakube, does not lie to free men! she would not dare to do so!"

"Perhaps you are indeed from far away," he said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

He looked at her.

"Men take me where they wish, they do with me as they please," she said. Slave girls, of course, as goods, as exchangeable properties, and so on, are likely to see a great deal more of their world than the average free woman. Many free persons on Gor seldom travel more than a few pasangs from their village or the walls of their city. An important exception to this is the pilgrimage to the Sardar, which every Gorean, male and female, is expected to undertake at least once in his life. The journey, of course, from many points on Gor to the Sardar is, at least in certain parts, dangerous. It is not unknown for a young woman who sets out in the pilgrim's white to arrive as a chained slave, who will be sold at one of the fairs. Her glimpse of the Sardar is likely to be obtained from the height of a sales platform.

"But perhaps you are from the west, and not the east," he said.

"Master?" she said.

"Might you be from Cos?" he asked, his eyes narrow, his hands on the belt, near the buckle.

"No, Master!" she said.

"It is well for you, that you are not," he said.

"Yes, Master," she whispered.

His voice had been low, but it had been terrible in its menace. He then removed his hands from his belt. Yakube shuddered. I was afraid for a moment that she might faint. The other girls, too, were frightened. There was no mistaking the menace, the fury, of the young warrior.

"I shall look for lodging for the night," he said to me. "I wish you well." "I wish you well," I said. I no longer ventured to suggest that we sup together, or pleasure ourselves with slaves.

We watched him depart.

"May we be dismissed, Master?" asked Roxanne. "all but Yakube," I said.

Gratefully Roxanne and Korinne leapt up and hurried away.

Yakube looked up at me.

"I will not hurt you," I said.

She trembled, kneeling on the pier.

"Do you know him?" I asked.

"No!" she said. "No!"

I continued to look after him.

"Why does he hate me so?" she asked.

"I do not think he hates you," I said. "I think, rather, you trouble him. I think, indeed, and am sure of it, that you are the sort of woman he finds inordinately exciting, maddeningly attractive.

She shuddered.:It is Cos he hates," I said.

"I am pleased that I am not of Cos!" she said.

"You may go," I said.

Quickly, gratefully, she drew her beads again about herself, before her, then leapt up and hurried after her friends. I saw that they had waited at the end of the pier. When she had joined them, they hurried away together. They took care not to take the same street as that followed by the young warrior.

There was a cold wind now. It came from the east.

I thought of Dietrich of Tarnburg, holding Torcadino, of Ar, of Cos, of the expeditionary force in the north, of the forces of Ar, and the delta.

I was afraid.

I then turned my attention once more to the street which the young warrior had entered. It was on of those narrow streets leading up between buildings, leading up, away from the wharves. It was now empty.