Slave Girl Of Gor

12
The Silver Leaf

"Master?" I asked.

I knelt before him, lifting the platter of meats to him.

With a Turian eating prong he forked meat from the platter onto his plate. The girl kneeling beside him lifted wine to him.

I arose and went to kneel before the next man, to offer him viands from the platter I bore.

The sensuous music of Turia filled the room. The girl in yellow silk, belled, danced her beauty among the tables.

I had been more than a month now in the keep of Stones of Turmus.

Often was I kept late to serve the men. I had learned much from Sucha. I was a different girl now from the one who had been sold for six copper tarsks to Borchoff, Captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus. Well could he congratulate himself on his buy.

"What did she cost you?" a lieutenant had asked him.

"Six tarsks of copper," he had said.

"You have an excellent eye for slave flesh," had, said the lieutenant.

Borchoff had grinned.

I had hurried away.

"She is paga hot," a soldier had once said. Then he had thrown me to his fellow. I could not help myself. Sometimes I lay awake in my barred alcove, weeping, not wanting to be a slave. "You are a natural slave," Sucha had once said to me. "You were born to the collar." "Yes, Mistress," I had said. I lay sometimes in my small cell, shamed, weeping. Strangely I thought often of Elicia Nevins. I had been her chief competitor in beauty at the exclusive college I had attended on Earth. How, I thought, she would have laughed at me, and scorned me, to see me now, her former beauty rival, as a slave.

"Meat, Dina!" cried a man.

I swiftly went to him, knelt, and lifted the platter to him. I did not wish to be whipped.

There were twenty-nine girls now in the keep of Stones of Turmus. The population in the slave quarters had changed somewhat; five girls had been sold to passing Turian merchants, affiliated with the keep, but, similarly, here and there, over the weeks, some six others had been acquired. Thus the stock was kept freshened for the men.

"You will not be sold, Dina," Sucha had said to me. "You are a prize."

"Yes, Mistress," I said.

We girls in the keep were pleasure slaves, but it must be clearly understood that we were the only girls in the keep. Thus, we served, too, as work slaves. Scrubbing must be done, and the sewing, and the washing and ironing of clothes, and the cleaning; too, we aided in the kitchen, usually in the preparing of vegetables and in the scouring of pots and pans; too, water must be carried to the men on the parapets; there was much work of a lowly and servile nature which it fell naturally to us, the girls of the keep, to perform. Yet generally I think we did not, have too much to complain of. We were permitted to sleep late in the slave quarters, and manual labors, for most of us, tended to be curtailed in the early afternoon, that we might rest and prepare ourselves for the evening. I think few of us did on the average more than two or three Ahn of light labors on a normal day. We were never under any delusion that our main task was not the delight and pleasure of our masters.

I was no longer low girl in the slave quarters. It was not that I had fought, for there were few girls there whom I suspected could not beat me, but that the matter had been determined by Sucha. She carried the whip. Each new girl, as she was introduced among us, became automatically low girl, the other girls being correspondingly advanced. We obeyed Sucha. She never hesitated to use the whip. We were kept in perfect order. I was not displeased. Had Borchoff not placed the whip in the hands of Sucha, I, for one, would have fared much more poorly in the slave quarters. Slave quarters, as I have mentioned, can become a jungle. This was prevented at Stones of Turmus by the whip of Sucha. I was not the only girl who was not displeased to be protected from intimidation and violence. Sometimes masters, in their cruelty, do not appoint a first girl. Then the slave girls, as best then can, by teeth and nails, must adjudicate their differences and establish a mode of governance for themselves. Sometimes masters do not appoint a first girl in order that the lower ranking girls will strive ever more desperately to please them, to become favorites, and thus to be to some extent more protected. "If you beat me, the master will not be pleased," is not a threat to be taken lightly in the slave quarters, particularly if it is thought to be true. The distant menace of the master's displeasure has its influence and effect, naturally, on the social arrangements of the kennels. Sometimes a girl will pretend to be more favored by the master than she is, for her own prestige, and to win position in the kennels. But it is not hard to know the truth in these matters. Who is most often summoned to his couch?

"Meat, Dina!" cried another man, and I hastened to him, to kneel and serve him. I wore red silk, a golden necklace about my throat, intertwined with my collar, and bells.

I saw Sucha lying soft in the arms of a lieutenant, kissing him. How marvelously she melted in his arms, his.

She was seldom permitted to carry her whip outside the slave quarters, except in conducting a new slave through the corridors and bringing her through the small iron door, as she had me. When she left the slave quarters she normally knelt before a guard and handed him the whip, her authority ended. He would then take the whip and thrust it against her lips, and she would kiss it, after which he would order her to her feet and discard the whip, which she would retrieve on her way back to the slave quarters. Outside the slave quarters we were normally under the governance not of Sucha, but men. We stood under her governance outside the quarters only when she was permitted to retain the whip. I watched her yielding in the arms of the lieutenant, moaning under his touch. She did not now have the whip. She was now, in the hall of Turian pleasures, as it is called, only another slave girl.

"Dina!" called a man.

I was struck by a soldier past whom I hurried. I gathered the man had called before, and I had not heard him. The soldier had struck me for I had been tardy in responding to the first man. I brushed the silk of the girl who danced between the tables. The music swirled about me.

I knelt before the man who had called.

"Are you deaf?" he asked.

"Forgive a miserable girl, Master," I begged. "I did not hear you."

"Give me meat," he said.

I lifted the platter to him and he thrust the eating prong into a slab of meat, hot with Turian spices. It was the last piece on the platter. He looked at me.

"I will fetch more meat immediately, Master," I said.

"You are the meat I want, Dina," he said.

"It is not yet time to serve the wine," I whispered. This is a common Gorean idiom. I was reminding him, timidly, that the time of general pleasure had not yet arrived. I, and several of the other girls, had not yet been released from our serving duties. There were still courses of the banquet to be served to our masters. In the time of desserts and wines we would crawl to their tables, slave girls.

"Fetch in the prisoner," called Borchoff, captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus.

This afternoon I had been upon the heights of the keep, carrying water to the men on the parapets. I had stood there, looking out over the wall, at the vast fields about. It was more than eighty feet to the ground.

"Is it your intention, Dina," had asked a soldier, coming up behind me, "to dash yourself to the ground?"

"No, Master," I said to him. "I am not a free woman. I am a slave girl." I backed gently against him, and lifted my head, turning it to him. I felt his hands on my arms.

"Attend to your duties, Slave Girl," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

I had been summoned more than once to his couch.

I poured him a cup of water from the small verrskin bag over my shoulder.

It was hot on the parapet. The stones were hot to my bare feet. I wore a brief, one-piece, brown work tunic. It was all I wore, with the exception of the collar. We wore such tunics when engaged as work slaves. The tunics of work slaves are usually brown or gray.

I looked above me at the posts mounted on the walls. Between them was slung fine wire, gently bending and swaying in the slow breeze of the hot afternoon. Such wire is tarn wire. It is used to prevent the descent of tarns into the courtyard of a fortress. It is common in Gorean defenses.

I looked again over the wall.

"Master," I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"I see dust there," I said, pointing to the road beneath, winding toward the fortress.

"They have him," said the soldier beside me.

Two tharlarion, ponderous and stately, made their way toward the keep. They were mounted by two warriors, with lances. More warriors, eight men from the keep, followed, bearing spears. Between the tharlarion, fastened by neck chains, running to the stirrups of the two beasts, strode a man. He was dark-haired. He wore chains. His wrists were fastened behind his back.

"Who is it, Master?" I asked.

"We do not know," said the soldier. "But word had come to us that he had been making inquiries concerning the keep, its defenses, and such."

"What is to be done with him?" I asked.

"He has been brought in," said the soldier. "Doubtless he will be branded, and enslaved. I do not envy him."

I watched the man. He walked proudly. I knew there were male slaves on Gor, but I had not seen them. Most Gorean slaves are female. Male 'captives are commonly killed.

"Bring water to the men, Slave Girl," said the soldier.

"Yes. Master," I said. I took the cup back from the soldier, and hurried on along the parapet, to serve others.

When I was descending the stairs and had come to the courtyard between the walls, the gate had been opened, and the party, with their prisoner, had entered. The gate then closed behind them. Borchoff, captain of the keep, came to inspect the prisoner. I, curious, stood idly by, watching, the emptied water bag over my shoulder, my ankles in the dust of the courtyard.

The man was tanned, dark-haired, very dark-haired, large, strong. He wore chains. His hands were manacled behind him. He stood proudly between the two beasts, bearing easily the weight of the two stirrup chains attached to his capture collar.

It pleased me to see a man captive. He wore heavy iron manacles and could not hurt me. I approached more closely. His guards did not stop me.

"What is your name?" asked Borchoff of the man.

"I do not remember," he said.

He was struck by one of the guards.

"For what purpose," inquired Borchoff, "were you attempting to ascertain the nature of our defenses?"

"It has slipped my mind," said the man.

Again he was struck. He scarcely flinched, though the blows were cruel.

Borchoff turned away from the man, to converse with the lieutenant, one of the men on the tharlarion, pertaining to the details of the prisoner's capture.

I approached the prisoner more closely. None stopped me. He looked upon me. I blushed hot red. My body was not much concealed in the brief one-piece work tunic, and I wore a collar. Gorean men have a way of looking at a woman which is like stripping them and putting them to their feet. I felt naked. I put my hand to the thin brown cloth, clutching it, as though to close it more, but I only moved it more tightly about me and higher upon my thighs. I felt, under his gaze, that every detail of my body must be clear to him. I shrank back.

Borchoff turned about, briefly. "Taunt him," said he, "Dina."

"I warn you, Captain," said the prisoner. "Do not do to me the insult of the taunting slave girl."

"Taunt him," said Borchoff, to me, then turning away.

The prisoner stiffened in silent rage. Suddenly I felt very powerful. He was helpless. And, too, almost overwhelming me, I felt a sudden fury against men, for what they had done to me, even to the collar and brand. And this man was Gorean, and he had, a moment before, looked upon me as a master upon a slave girl.

"Yes, Master," I said to Borchoff, captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus.

I approached the prisoner, looking up at him. He looked away. "Does Master fear a slave girl?" I asked. I touched him with my finger, tracing idly on his shoulder. I smiled to myself. The only men I knew who would fear a slave girl would be men of Earth. A slave girl would confuse and frighten them. They would not know what to do with one. They would doubtless attempt to indoctrinate her swiftly with masculine values, and turn her into an imitation man. She would then be safe for them. They would doubtless proceed in this matter regardless of her feelings, oblivious of her integrities, for they would not be truly interested in fulfilling her nature, whatever it might be, but in avoiding the responsibilities of their own. Women and men are identical; this the defensive thesis of weak, fearful men. It is simple. If women are not women, then they need not be men. Why do many men fear manhood? I do not think it would be so terrible.

"You are large and strong, Master," I said to the prisoner. "And you are handsome, too," I said.

He looked away, angrily.

"Why do you not take me in your arms, and kiss me as a slave girl?" I whimpered. "Do you not find me attractive?"

He said nothing.

"Oh," I said, "you wear chains." I kissed at his arm. He was more than ten inches taller than I, and must have weighed twice as much. I was very small next to him.

"Let Dina give you pleasure, Master," I whispered. "Let Dina please you." I bit at his tunic, which was torn, with my teeth. "You should let Dina please you," I said, "for soon you may be branded, and then you will be only a poor little slave like Dina." With my teeth I tore away his upper tunic, stripping him to the waist. He had a mighty chest. I caressed his flanks, and licked and bit at his belly. "Male slaves," I said, "may be slain for so much as touching a slave girl." I looked up at him. "Dina is sorry that you will soon be a slave, Master," I said.

"I will not be a slave," he said. I looked at him, puzzled. Then again he did not look at me.

I took the waist of his tunic in my teeth.

"Do not, Slave Girl," said he.

I shrank back, frightened.

"Run along, Dina," said Borchoff, returning to the prisoner.

"Yes, Master," I said.

I left them, returning to the quarters for female slaves, to swim, and bathe and refresh myself before the duties of the evening.

"Fetch in the prisoner," called Borchoff, rising behind the low table in the hall of Turian pleasures, lifting his goblet.

I knelt near the man to whom I had served meat. The platter was now empty.

The girl in yellow silk had stopped dancing, and the musicians were quiet.

There must have been some fifty men in the hall, and most of the girls.

"Welcome," called Borchoff, as the prisoner was bro9glit in. He wore chains on his ankles, and his hands were locked behind his back in iron manacles. He had been much beaten.

The prisoner was thrown to his knees before Borchoff, captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus.

He was held on his knees by two guards.

"You are guest here," said Borchoff. "Tonight you will feast."

"You are generous, Captain," said the man.

"Tomorrow," said Borchoff, "you will speak beneath our persuasions."

"I do not think so," said the man.

"Our methods are efficient," said Borchoff.

"They have not yet served," said the man.

Borchoff appeared angry.

"But I will speak when it pleases me," said the man.

"We are humbly grateful," said Borchoff.

The prisoner inclined his head.

"You are of the warriors," said Borchoff.

"Perhaps," said the man.

"I like you," said Borchoff. Then he called out, "Sulda, Tupa, Fina, Melpomene, Dina, feast and please our mysterious guest, he who finds it difficult to recall his caste, his name or city."

We fled to the kneeling, chained man, obeying.

"Come nightfall next, we trust," said Borchoff, "his memory will be much improved."

"Is it the nineteenth hour?" asked the prisoner.

"No," said Borchoff.

"I shall speak," said he, "at the nineteenth hour."

"You fear the persuasions of the morrow?" inquired Borchoff.

"No," said the prisoner, "but there is a time and a place for speaking, as there is a time and a place for steel."

"It is a saying of the warriors," said Borchoff.

"Is it?" inquired the man.

Borchoff lifted his cup to him, saluting him. Borchoff, too, was of the warriors.

"It is unfortunate," said Borchoff, "that you fell living into our hands. The tharlarion pens of Turia require slaves for their cleaning."

There was much laughter about the tables at the witticism of Borchoff. I, too, and the other girls, laughed merrily. Much insult had he done to the prisoner, should he be of the warriors. I, and the others, found the thought amusing that the fellow should be enslaved and set to such lowly tasks. He had intimidated me in the courtyard, in spite of the fact that he had been helpless and chained. I thus found the thought of his prospective enslavement and labors particularly delicious. It would serve him so right!

The prisoner did not respond to Borchoff. Borchoff nodded to us, and then drank from his cup.

"Poor Master," I said to the kneeling, chained prisoner. I knelt beside him and took his head in my hands and pressed my lips to his, kissing him. "Poor Master," I said.

He looked at me. "You are the slut of the courtyard," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"It will be pleasant to tag your ear," he said. I did not understand him.

I, and the other girls, then began to kiss and caress him, to bring him wines and feed him delicacies. Much did we move about him, and serve him.

"It is the time of general pleasure!" called Borchoff.

The men in the room responded eagerly. "Dina!" called the fellow to whom I had earlier served the spiced hot meat.

I kissed the kneeling, chained prisoner swiftly, with the insulting kiss often given by the wives of Earth to their husbands. "Forgive me, Master," I said, "I must now serve another." Then I hurried away.

I heard the prisoner inquire the hour of Borchoff. "It is the eighteenth hour," said Borchoff.

I lay in the arms of the Turian soldier, on the cushions on the tiles of the hail of Turian pleasures. I kissed him. He was the fourth one to whom I had been thrown. "How marvelous you are, Master," I whispered to him. I cuddled up to him, delicately lifting my head. I wanted him to give me a cube of meat, honeyed, from the metal plate which lay near him. I, and the other girls, might not take such food for ourselves. Our hands could be cut off. We are not fed hours before the feast, and, in serving the feast, are not permitted in the least to partake of it. The feast was not ours to eat, but to serve. We were slave girls. We might, however, be fed by the men. If we would eat, we must earn our food. "Please, Master," I wheedled, "feed Dina." He put a cube of meat, boiled in wine, honeyed, in my mouth, thrusting it between my teeth and cheek with his finger. "Thank you, Master," I whispered, kissing him, the meat in my mouth.

I looked up, savoring the meat. I looked across to Sulda. I had fed better than she this evening.

I was well learning, in the keep of Stones of Turmus, how to serve men.

I smiled at Sulda, and she looked at me, angrily. I looked over to the kneeling prisoner, now abandoned. He knelt alone on the tiles, chained. I was surprised to see his eyes upon me. More than once, though, this night, I had noted his eyes upon me. I smiled at him. I pursed my lips and blew a kiss to him, brushing it toward him with my fingers. I was permitted this gesture of insolence. The man with whom I lay laughed. I continued to look at the prisoner. Well had I and the other girls earlier mocked him this night. Well pleased were we with ourselves, and I thought that I had been the best in this work. How dared he adopt the attitude of a master toward me when he was only a chained captive? We had given him of wines, and of delicacies upon which to feast. Often had we spoken to him soothingly as though in deference and pity, as though he might not be kneeling chained in the fortress of enemies; sometimes, too, we had spoken to him in husky whispers, as though he had much aroused our feminine slave bloods; much had we pressed upon him our kisses, our caresses and attentions; well had we teased him, and taunted and humiliated him in his helplessness; slave girls are excellent in such work, and I thought that I had been the best.

He regarded me.

The soldier in whose arms I lay pulled me down and more closely to him. Eagerly I kissed him. I heard the musicians playing the music of Gor. Another soldier seized me by the ankle. "Wait," said the first, his word muffled against the side of my throat, where his mouth and teeth, below my ear, half kissed, half held me. I felt the hand of the first in my collar, behind my neck, pulling the steel up, tight under my chin, that I not be pulled from him. "Hurry with the slave," said the second, his hand on my ankle. "Only if it pleases me," said the first, not releasing my collar. I laughed. Then I cried out, as the first began to make me yield to him.

"A little wine for Dina, Master," I begged.

I snuggled closer to him. I, as other girls, had crawled among the tables. Some men are more generous than others. Fina crept close. "Go away!" I ordered her. Angrily, she crept away, to seek another.

"A little wine for Dina, please, Master," I begged. He held back my head by the hair and thrust the rim of the cup against my mouth. I laughed, feeling the wine in my mouth, and spilling at my throat, running under the collar and, beneath the light silk, over my left breast.

The door to the hall suddenly burst open with a crash. Helmeted, armed men thrust their way into the room.

"The tarn wire has been cut!" cried a man. Then he reeled, bloody, from a blade.

Borchoff, drunk, staggered to his feet between the tables. The Turian soldiers looked wildly about. The music had stopped. Outside the hall we could hear fighting and shouting.

"To arms!" cried Borchoff. "Ring the alarm bell!"

More men swept into the room. Turian soldiers ran to the walls, to seize at their weapons. Slave girls screamed.

Then the room was in the control of the strangers. They were fierce, swift men, efficient, terrible. They wore gray helmets, with crests of the hair of larls and sleen. Their leather told me they were tarnsmen.

"The key to these chains," demanded the prisoner, rising to his feet.

Blades were set at the throat of Borchoff. His men were throwing down their weapons. The surprise had been complete. For the music we had heard nothing.

The wire had been cut, with bladed hooks, swung on long lines below giant tarns, cut, and torn from its posts. The tarnsmen had approached from the dark quadrant, away from the moons, low, not more than a few feet from the ground, hidden by the shadows of the world, and then had, without warning, little more than a quarter of a pasang from the keep, swept into the air, the first wave striking at the wire, the second, third and fourth waves dropping through the cut, billowing wire to the parapets, roofs and courtyard of the keep. Numbers had fought their way almost instantly to the hall. The plan of the fortress seemed well known to them. They moved with dispatch.

Borchoff, angry, half sober, threw the key to the prisoner's chains to one of the intruders. Swiftly they were unlocked. The man stood proudly, rubbing his wrists.

"Are you the leader of these men?" asked Borchoff.

"Yes," said the man.

"You were apprehended making inquiries," said Borchoff, "into the structure of our fortress and the nature of its defenses."

"The inquiries," said the man, "were completed earlier, and the plans devised. It was then necessary only to let myself fall into your hands."

"You intended your capture?" asked Borchoff.

"Yes," said the man. "I was thus brought into the fortress, where I might make further determinations, of such a nature as to expedite the transactions of my men." He then turned to certain of his lieutenants, issuing orders. The lieutenants, in turn, communicated with their men. Men sped to their work.

"You have been observant," said Borchoff.

"I attempted to improve my time," said the man. He grinned at Borchoff. "And your men, as I anticipated, were most helpful, speaking freely before, and to, one whom they thought destined to the chains of a slave."

Borchoff glared at his men.

The leader of the intruders was handed a pouch, which he slung about his shoulders, and a sword.

"I would continue the conversation, Captain," he said, "But you must understand that we must move with dispatch."

"Of course, Captain," said Borchoff. "We lie within the patrol limits of the tarnsmen of Ar."

"The evening's patrol will be delayed," said the man. "It seems there was a distraction, a burning field some pasangs to the south. It must be investigated and reported."

Borchoff's fists clenched.

"Chain him," said the man, indicating the very chains with which he himself, earlier, had been secured.

The chains were snapped on Borchoff.

"Who are you," demanded Borchoff, in fury, his wrists and ankles confined.

"Is it the nineteenth hour?" asked the man.

"Yes," said Borchoff.

"I am Rask," he said, "of the caste of warriors, of the city of Treve."

The slave girls screamed, and I broke, and fled with them. Behind us we could hear orders being given. The fortress would be sacked.

I fled wildly down a dark passageway. I could hear a man behind me. Then he turned aside, to pursue another girl. The silk was half torn from me.

I tried to tear off the slave bells on my ankle. A girl sped past me, turning into another hallway. I looked wildly about. I saw a steel door. I slipped through. It was not guarded. Beyond the door was a passageway. I ran panting, slave bells jangling on my ankle, down this passageway. Then, opening a door, I saw a new passageway, one in which there burned a lamp, hanging on a chain. I remembered this second passageway. I had been conducted through it on my first day in Stones of Turmus. It was lined with barred gates. I pulled at the barred gates. Then I backed away from them. It would not be wise to hide within, could I even gain admittance. Behind lay treasures. They would be sure to be looted. I must look for the grosser storage places, those in which bulk goods were kept. These places, I remembered, were farther down the passageway, on the other side of a steel door. I fled down the passageway. I came to the heavy steel door. It was not now guarded. I left it ajar. Gate after gate I tried along the passageway below the steel door, those gates giving access to the storage areas for larger, less valuable merchandise, but all were locked. I jerked at the bars. I could not open them. I wept with frustration. I looked wildly back down the passageway, frightened. If anyone should enter the passageway I would be immediately visible, a fleeing, hunted, beautiful, half silked, belled slave girl. I jerked again at the bars of a gate. I could not hide! There was no place to hide! I spun about, miserably, my back to the bars, moaning. I could feel them against my back. I looked again down the passageway. No one was yet in it. I touched the collar I wore. I clutched the bit of silk which still clung, loose, about my hips. I moaned. I was too beautiful, I knew, to be treated gently by Gorean men. I feared their ropes and whips. I was a slave! Who knew what they would do to me, if they would catch me! I saw then, below me, down the hallway, the door to the office of Borchoff. I ran to the door, pulled it open and entered. On the wall I saw the whip with which I had been disciplined, after some strokes of which I had begged, tamed, sobbing, to wear a collar. I touched the collar at my throat. I shrank back from the sight of the whip. Even the sight of a whip strikes terror into the heart of a slave girl. She knows what it can do to her. She has felt it. One of the most frightening things to a girl about the whip is the knowledge that the Gorean male, if he is not pleased with her, will use it, and without hesitation. I heard shouting from the passageway leading to the other door of Borchoff's office. I heard the striking of swords. I heard a girl scream. I heard a girl crying out piteously, pounding and scratching hysterically at the other side of the door. I hesitated. Then I heard her, an instant later, screaming, being pulled away from the door. "Bind her and take her to the parapets," I heard. "She is your tag," said a voice. "I shall take the next." I heard the girl cry out, in sudden pain. Then, a few moments later, I heard her being dragged away. I heard other voices. Then I moved back toward the door through which I had entered. The handle of the other door was being tried. Then I heard men kicking at the panels. I saw wood breaking in, splintering, and an arm reaching through, to unlatch the door. I turned and fled away, back the way I had come.

I heard men coming into the room which I had left.

Gasping, my bare feet hurting on the stones, I ran back down the passageway.

I darted through the steel door. I spun, running my hands along the door, to find a way to lock it. I cried out with misery. Its five bolts could not be shut. They were controlled by a vertical bar, which slid in brackets. The bar was padlocked back.

I ran again.

I did not know if the, men who had entered Borchoff's office were in pursuit of me or not.

I stopped once again, trying to twist the slave bells, one by one, from the five-linked anklet which I wore, with its twenty bells. If I had had a tool to insert in the rings I might have done so. But I had no tool. The task was beyond the strength of my fingers.

I heard men in the passage.

My heart sank. I was still belled.

Then I thought that if I might reach the room of slave-girl preparation I might obtain the key to the bells. The keys were kept in a shallow wooden box in that room, a box the key to which was generally in Sucha's keeping. If the box were not open I might be able to break it, or its small lock, and thus obtain the keys.

I ran back along the passage.

In a few moments I reached the small iron door, through which I had first been introduced into the quarters for slaves.

It opened from this side.

I knelt down and opened the door, peering through. I saw a girl being dragged by the hair from the room, bent over, stumbling and weeping at the side of a warrior. I saw another girl, Melpomene, thrown on her stomach on the tiles beside the pool, a warrior kneeling across her body, tying her hands behind her back. Then he threw her over his shoulder and carried her lightly from the room. Only one other person did I see in the room, red-haired Fina, stripped, lying at the gate to her slave alcove; her left wrist wore a slave bracelet; the matching bracelet was closed, locked, about one of the bars of the alcove. She looked at me, miserably. I could not help her. She would wait for the return of her captor.

I tore bits of slave silk from my garment and wedged them in the two bolt receptacles, that the door not shut behind me.

I hurried to the room of slave girl preparation. It appeared in disarray, ransacked. I gathered girls had been taken there. The box containing the keys had been broken open, perhaps by men, looking for jewelries. Keys were scattered about.

I heard shouting, screaming.

Frenziedly I tried keys in the first of the locks. Outside the door I saw Sulda flee past. I shrank back.

She was taken on the far side of the pool. "Do not tag me," she screamed. Then I heard her cry out. Moments later I saw her, wrists tied behind her, her hair down about her face, being thrust along, stumbling, held by the upper arm, at the side of a warrior.

"Hurry her to the parapet," I heard someone call.

I found the key to the slave bells. I unlocked the first tiny lock, and then the next four. The five-linked, joined circlets, opened. I cast the bells aside.

I then crept from the room of slave girl preparation, and, slipping about the side of the pool, went to the small iron door. I did not exit through it. I heard men on the other side, approaching. I turned again and fled, this time running through the barred gate which leads from the quarters of slaves. I then passed. through the second gate. I felt the carpet under my feet.

I must find a place to hide!

I ran lightly down the hall.

Suddenly, ahead, from a side passage, I saw two men emerge. They held a girl, Tupa, between them.

I turned again, to flee back down the hall.

But, behind me, now, came two more men, doubtless those I had heard behind the small iron door, who had then entered the quarters for slaves, examined them, and the room for slave girl preparation, and emerged through the two gates.

I was trapped in the corridor. I shrank back against the wall.

They approached. "It is the Dina," said one of them.

"Let her go," said the other.

Then the four men joined and went hack toward the great hall, taking Tupa with them.

I stood back against the wall, breathing heavily, bewildered, terrified. They had not secured me.

I did not understand this. Did they not want me? Was I not suitable for them?

Was I to be left free?

At the far end of the hall, away from the gates leading to the quarters of slaves, I saw a figure, that of a man, tall, handsome, strong, splendid, with the bearing of one who leads Gorean warriors.

It was he called Rask of Treve. I turned and fled away.

I crouched in the dark passageway, cornered. I saw the tiny lamp approach, from far down the passageway. I felt the walls of the passageway about me.

Behind me there was a barred gate, locked.

The lamp came closer.

There were walls of stone on either side of me.

He lifted the lamp, and the light fell upon me. I knelt. "Be merciful to a poor slave, Master," I whispered.

"Kneel," said he, "with your belly and cheek against the wall, and place your hands behind your back, with your wrists crossed."

I did so. He placed the lamp he carried on a shelf to one side. He placed the sword he carried behind him on the stones of the flooring and crouched behind me. Binding fiber was looped about my wrists and pulled tight; then it was tied; I winced; I was helpless. He took me by the arms and turned me, sitting me down on the flooring, my knees up, my back against the stone wall.

"Be merciful to a poor slave, please, Master," I whispered. I had muchly taunted him, and much had I delighted myself at his expense. Now I wore his binding fiber, and was alone with him, in a dark passageway deep below the keep of Stones of Turmus.

I blinked against the light of the lamp.

He withdrew an object from his pouch, and held it before me. "Do you know what this is?" he asked.

It was like a small, veined, metal leaf, narrowly ovate in shape. It had a tiny hole in the wider end, in which, in a tiny loop, there was twisted a small wire. On the leaf, indented m, was a sign, and some tiny printing.

"Do you know this sign?" asked the man.

"No, Master," I whispered.

"It is the sign of Treve," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Can you read this?" asked the man, pointing to the printing.

"No, Master," I said. I could not read Gorean. I was illiterate in the language. This was not uncommon. Many masters think it desirable to keep a girl illiterate in their language, thinking it makes them easier to control and puts them more at their mercy. Other masters differ in this, relishing the ownership and absolute domination of literate girls, preferably those who are well educated, highly intelligent and gifted. Such girls must be regarded as quite valuable; on the block they commonly bring the highest prices. It is also said they make the best slaves. Had I been sold on Earth I would have counted as such a girl; on Gor, however, I was only another piece of illiterate collar meat.

"It is my name," said the man. "Rask."

"Yes, Master," I said.

"It is with these devices," said the man, holding up the tiny leaf, with its wire, sign and printing, "that we of Treve, in our various ventures of raiding, mark our booty."

"Please, no, Master!" I cried.

I shrank back against the wall. He held my left ear lobe, pulling it taut. I cried out, wincing, as the wire pierced the lobe, and then he threaded the wire through and, twisting the ends together, formed a tiny loop, from which the silver leaf dangled. I felt it at my left cheek.

"It will be pleasant to tag you," he had said to me earlier. I had not understood him at the time. I now understood him. I looked at him with horror. I had been tagged.

"You do not now appear so insolent as formerly," he said.

"No, Master," I wept.

He then seized my ankles and pulled me from the wall. I threw my head back, moaning. An ear had been pierced. This, in itself, is little or nothing, but on Gor it is mighty in its portent. The other ear, almost certainly now, to match its mate, would sometime be pierced, and I would then be a «pierced-ear» girl, the lowest of female slaves. I had heard another girl crying out earlier, as she had been tagged, although at the time I had not understood what had been done to her. It had not been the pain which had made her cry out so miserably but its meaning. An ear had been pierced.

I looked up at Rask of Treve reproachfully. He laughed. He well understood what he had done to me, and he knew well, too, that I understood.

"Is your vengeance sweet, Master?" I asked him.

"I have not yet begun to take my revenge, pretty little slave," he said. He thrust apart my ankles.

I resolved to resist him. I turned my head to the side, and heard the small sound of the silver leaf, on its tiny loop, fastened in my ear, touch the stones of the flooring of the passage.

But his hands were sure.

"No," I begged, "do not make me yield to you!"

But he did not see fit to show me mercy. I cried out with misery, lost in sensation, lifting my body to him, piteous for his slightest touch.

When he finished with me I lay between his feet, a shattered, yielded slave girl.

He lifted his head. "Smoke," he said.

I, too, smelled smoke.

"The keep is afire," he said. "On your feet, Slave."

I struggled to my feet, bent over.

We journeyed through flaming halls. In a few Ehn we emerged, after climbing stairs, on the roof of one of the buildings, and, thence, by a narrow bridge, crossed to one of the parapets. There there were several tarns, great fierce saddle birds of Gor. I could see fire licking through the roof of one of the buildings. The parapet was crowded. Goods were bound over the saddles of tarns. Strings of plates and vessels were tied at the pommels. Girls stood beside the winged monsters, their hands over their heads, slave braceleted through the stirrups of the beasts. They would dangle from the stirrups in flight, two on a side. Behind some of the beasts there were tarn baskets, on trailing ropes. Girls, too, and various goods, had been thrust in these. I saw Sucha, her hands braceleted over her head, at one of the stirrups. She looked terrified. Men mounted swiftly to the saddles. Below in the courtyard, chained together, I could see Borchoff, and the soldiers and staff of the keep. There was much smoke about them. I saw tharlarion, released, in the courtyard. Men struggled not to be trampled. I was pulled along by the arm, by my captor. "Let us hurry, Captain," said one of the men.

"We must move under the cover of darkness," said a lieutenant. "We must be at the merchant rendezvous before dawn."

"To your saddle, Lieutenant," grinned Rask of Treve.

The man grinned, and leapt to the ladder leading to the high saddle of the great beast.

I saw below that the great gate of the keep had been swung open. Tharlarion rushed through.

I was thrust into the hands of a soldier, who conducted me to one of the tarn baskets.

Borchoff, below in the courtyard, looked upward. Rask of Treve lifted his hand to him, in a salute of warriors. The gate had been opened. Borchoff and his men might make their way, though chained, to safety.

Then Rask of Treve looked about himself, making swift inspection of his men and tarns, and their burdens, riches and slave girls.

The soldier lifted me lightly from my feet and thrust me, feet first, through a hatchlike opening, with flat door, in the top of the tarn basket. He pushed my head down, thrusting me down between the other girls. I crouched down, wedged in. I could scarcely squirm. I looked up, seeing the flat door swung shut. In an instant he had tied it closed. I knelt. We could not stand upright. Eight of us were imprisoned in the basket. Our wrists were tied behind our backs. Silk, and gold, too, had been thrust in the basket. I looked about. Scarcely could we move. From the left ears of the other girls, as from mine, there dangled a silver leaf, a tag, which had been placed upon them by the men who had taken them.

"Ho!" cried Rask of Treve.

I thrust my head to the wall of the basket.

"Ho!" cried the men of Rask of Treve.

The man who had placed me in the basket, and then tied it shut, climbed swiftly to the saddle of his tarn; our trail lines, those attached to the basket in which we were confined, ran to the tarn's stirrups. When the tarn took to flight the basket, following it, would be lifted into the air. He awaited only the command of flight.

"Ho!" cried Rask of Treve. He drew back on the first strap of his tarn's harness.

"Ho!" cried his men.

Rask of Treve's tarn smote the air with its mighty wings. I was frightened. The span of those wings may have been thirty feet or more.

His tarn, screaming, departed the walls of the keep of Stones of Turmus. Those of his men followed him. Even in the shelter of the basket the torrent of air was frightening. If one had stood upon the parapet surely one would have been hurled in its blasts to the courtyard below.

There was a moment of slack and then the lines on the basket drew taut. Our tarnsman drew the basket over the courtyard and, gaining altitude there, then departed the walls of the keep, following the others. When the basket dropped from the parapet toward the courtyard we screamed, frightened, but then it swung below the tarn, and we felt ourselves being lifted high into the air, as though toward the moons of Gor itself.

I wondered how many slave girls, helpless and bound, a tiny silver leaf dangling from their ear, had been carried by the men of Treve in this basket, and how many more in the future would find themselves its captive.

I could see the keep of Stones of Turmus in flames, dropping away below us.