Slave Girl Of Gor

27
I Kneel In The Yellow Circle

I lay at his feet, like a pet she-sleen, he, Clitus Vitellius, in his compartments, sitting in a curule chair. His hands were on the arms of the curved chair. He stared moodily out the window, at the towers of Ar.

I rose to kneel before him. "Master," I said. I did not think I could dissuade him. I wore a brief street tunic, his collar.

I put my head upon his knee. I felt his hand in my hair. There was a tear in my eye.

"You trouble me," he said.

"I am sorry," I said, "if I have displeased you."

"I do not understand the feeling I have toward you," he said. He held my head between his hands, and looked down at me. "You are a mere slave," he said.

"Only your slave, Master," I said.

He thrust me from him, to the floor. I looked up at him.

"And you are of Earth," he said, "only a wench of Earth, collared and enslaved."

"Yes, Master," I said, softly.

He stood, angrily. He had, in the past days, treated me with great brutality.

"I fear you," he said, suddenly.

I was startled.

"I fear myself," he said, angrily. "I fear you, and myself," he said. He glared down at me.

I shrank back from him, for I was a slave.

"You make me weak," he said, angrily. "I am a warrior of Ar."

"A slave laughs at her master's weakness," I shouted, angrily.

"Fetch the whip!" he cried in fury.

I ran to the whip and brought it to him, kneeling before him, thrusting it into his hands. I looked up at him, angrily. His hand seized my tunic at the neck and shoulder and prepared to tear it from me, that I might be hurled to the floor at his feet, to be put writhing beneath the sharp discipline of his domination. His hand was on my tunic, the whip was uplifted. Then he released my tunic and threw the whip from him. He held my head between his hands. "Oh," he said, "you are an interesting and clever slave! That is one of the reasons you are so dangerous, Dina. You are so clever, so intelligent."

"Whip me," I begged.

"No," he said, angrily.

"Does Master care for Dina?" I asked.

"How could I, Clitus Vitellius, a captain of Ar, care for a slave?" he demanded.

"Forgive a girl, Master," I said.

"Should I free you?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said. "I could not then help myself. I would oppose my will to yours. I would strive against you."

"Do not fear," he said to me. "I am Clitus Vitellius, of Ar. I do not free slaves."

On the way to the Curulean we stopped at the Belled Collar. There Clitus Vitellius untied my hands, that I might, as though I were still a paga girl there, serve him.

"Will you not force me to the alcove?" I asked him.

"She-sleen," he smiled, sipping his paga.

I saw Slave Beads serving men. It was early afternoon.

"I was quite good as a paga girl," I said.

"I do not doubt it," he said.

Various of the girls whom I remembered, and Slave Beads in particular, had, with the permission of Busebius, the tavern master, spoken with me and kissed me. I think several of them envied me my master, but I informed them that I was being taken to the Curulean, there to be sold.

"Do you need a slave girl, Master," asked Helen, the Earth-girl dancer at the Belled Collar. She put out her hand, timidly, to touch his knee. "Buy me," she whispered. "I will serve you well." He cuffed her sharply back, bringing blood to her mouth. She looked up, frightened, from the floor. "Dance for us, Earth wench," he said. Her accent had betrayed her. "Yes, Master," she said. Before the table, to the music of some four musicians, Helen, commanded, danced before a Gorean master. There were tears in her eyes. Then he dismissed her, and she fled away. I was not displeased.

I saw Bran Loort entering the tavern with a basket of vegetables. He saw me, and looked away. He went to the kitchens. He did small work at the tavern.

"Where is Marla, Master?" I asked. I had regarded her as my greatest rival where Clitus Vitellius had been concerned.

"I sold her to a slaver," said he, "who specializes in the training of dancing girls."

I remembered Marla's long dark hair, her beautiful face, her stunning figure. She would look well, belled, in the dancing sand, I thought. She would be a marvelous dancer.

"I gave Eta," said Clitus Vitellius, "to the guard, Mirus."

"I am pleased, Master," I said. I remembered the young, blond giant, Minis, how he had put her on the coffle in Tabuk's Ford. I had seen they had been intensely attracted to one another. Now he owned her. I thought Eta would be extremely happy. I was much pleased for her. Mirus, I had thought, had been the most attractive of the men of Clitus Vitellius, saving himself, of course.

"Slave Beads, as you know," said Clitus Vitellius, "is now owned by Busebius."

"Yes, Master," I said.

"Lehna, and Donna and Chanda," said Clitus Vitellius, "I gave to two of my men, Lehna to one, and Donna and Chanda to the other, for good service in war."

I nodded. It is not unusual among warriors to bestow beautiful slave girls as rewards for good service or valor. Slave girls make lovely gifts.

"Are we to leave soon for the Curulean, Master?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "But first I am awaiting the arrival of a friend."

"May I ask whom, Master?" I asked.

"Only if you wish to be whipped," he said.

I was silent.

"But you know him," said Clitus Vitellius.

I looked at Clitus Vitellius, curious. But I did not ask. I did not wish to be whipped, certainly not before the other girls. There are diverse philosophies of discipline. Some masters believe a girl should be whipped only privately. Others believe she should be whipped whenever and wherever she deserves it, immediately, while her offense, such as it is, is fresh in her mind. Clitus Vitellius, perhaps wisely, believed it depended upon the girl and the context. Sometimes punishment is much more effective when a girl must wait for it. Generally a girl is not whipped before another girl who is owned by the same master. They only know, when the door is closed, that their sister in bondage is to be whipped. That is enough for them. I had little doubt, however, that Clitus Vitellius, in the present context, would hesitate to whip in the Belled Collar itself. He knew I would not care to be exposed and publicly put under the leather here where I had worked, and certainly not before the girls I knew. To be whipped with Helen watching, for example, would be almost unspeakable agony. I was very quiet.

Soon I heard a roisterous peasant singing. Thurnus, whatever might have been his virtues, was not skilled in melody. "It is Thurnus!" I laughed. "Yes," Clitus Vitellius. "Do not give me to him again!" I begged. "Do not fear, little slave," said Clitus Vitellius. He leaped to his feet and he and Thurnus, who was carrying his great staff, met, embracing, among the tables.

In moments they had come to our table. Thurnus was already drunk, I thought. It seemed strange to me that they had met here, though I knew that they were friends. Thurnus, clearly, was in Ar on some business. "Greetings, little Dina," he roared. "Greetings, Master," I said.

He looked powerful and hardy, and was much pleased with himself. I knew the drought had been broken. The fields, I suspected, were doing well.

I wondered on what business it was that he had come to Ar. It was in the Fall now.

I noted Bran Loort peering out from the kitchens, but he then withdrew, his face in misery. He dared not be seen in this place, performing the chores of a churl. He had been of the peasants. I recalled the dishonor and agony in which Bran Loort had been banished from Tabuk's Ford. Rather than permit himself to be seen in tavern work by Thurnus, Caste Leader of Tabuk's Ford, I thought he might choose death.

I looked to Slave Beads. She was busily engaged in serving Thander of Ti, of the Salerian Confederation, and four of his men. When in Ar, negotiating commercial arrangements between Ar and the Confederation, it seemed he regularly patronized the Belled Collar. There was a girl there to whom he had taken a liking. Her name was Slave Beads.

"Sul paga!" cried Thurnus, pounding on the small table with his great staff.

"Be quiet," said a fellow at a nearby table. He was drinking with some five companions.

"Sul paga!" shouted Thurnus, pounding on the table.

"Be silent!" said some fellow at another table.

"Sul paga! Sul paga!" cried Thurnus. The great staff banged on the table.

Busebius rushed to the table. "Master," said he, "we have many pagas, those of Ar and Tyros, and Ko-ro-ba, and Helmutsport, and Anango, and Tharna!"

"Sul paga!" shouted Thurnus. Several men about, at various tables, regarded him, most unpleasantly. I had worked in the Belled Collar, and, later, in the Chatka and Curla, in Cos. It did not require a great deal of experience to sense that Thurnus must soon be quiet or there would be trouble.

The pagas mentioned by Busebius were all, of course, Sa-Tarna pagas, of various sorts and localities, varying largely in the blend.

"Sul paga!" demanded Thurnus. Sul paga, as anyone knew, is seldom available outside of a peasant village, where it is brewed. Sul paga would slow a tharlarion. To stay on your feet after a mouthful of Sul paga it is said one must be of the peasants, and then for several generations. And even then, it is said, it is difficult to manage. There is a joke about the baby of a peasant father being born drunk nine months later.

"Sul paga!" shouted Thurnus.

"Silence!" cried a brawny fellow, some two tables away.

"Please, Master," said Busebius, "we do not have Sul paga here."

Thurnus rose to his feet, his face a maze of conflicting emotions, disbelief and incredulity chief among them.

"Sit down!" cried one critic.

"Eject him," cried another.

"No Sul paga?" said Thurnus.

"No, Master," said Busebius.

"Then I shall sing," said Thurnus.

I thought this a splendid threat.

Thurnus, as good as his word, broke into wondrous song. At this point, unable to help himself, one of the fellows at another table leaped bodily upon Thurnus and began. to pummel him. He was joined shortly in this endeavor by several others. Clitus Vitellius, to my surprise, slipped to one side. I crawled between the legs of fighting men. I saw some two men fly off their feet, held up toward the ceiling by Thurnus. Their heads made a dull sound as they were struck together. A slave girl screamed. Then I saw Thurnus go down under a pile of attackers A blur, brown and huge, leaped past me. I covered my head and backed away. I saw Bran Loort seize a man by the collar and loft him into the air, the fellow flying backward, then falling, crashing, skidding across two tables. "I am done for," cried Thurnus, from somewhere under the pile. But I saw his hand reach out and seize a paga cup which he drained while men fought over him, struggling to pound upon him, largely striking one another. "Do not fear, Caste Leader!" cried Bran Loort. He hurled another fellow away, headfirst into a wall. He seized two by the collars, pounding their heads together. I winced at the sound. He spun another man about and the fellow had little time to register the large hamlike fist which rearranged his features. I saw two teeth fly out of the mouth of the next man struck. Bran Loort fought like a madman. "Do not fear, Caste Leader!" he cried. "I am here!" Thurnus, by this time, had extricated himself from beneath the pile of bodies and stood to one side, a goblet of paga in his hand. "He fights well," said Thurnus to Clitus Vitellius. "Yes," said Clitus Vitellius, moving his head to one side to avoid a flying bottle. Then we saw Bran Loort backed against the wall, with what must have been twenty angry men of Ar encircling him. He looked wildly about himself. He saw Thurnus. "There are only twenty!" called Thurnus. "And you are of the peasants!" He flung his staff to Bran Loort, who caught it. Out stabbed the staff. A man screamed. About swung the staff and men tried to struggle backward. The staff whirled about, almost invisible, a branch lashed in a hurricane. I saw teeth flying, and blood, and a jaw broken. One man howled with misery, a shin shattered. More than one, I think, must have received a broken leg. The staff punched out, thrusting into another man's stomach. It lashed to the side and I heard ribs crack. Men crept to the side to outflank the young peasant. Thurnus broke a table over the head of one. Busebius was weeping. "Stop, stop, Masters!" he cried. Then Thurnus and Bran Loort were fighting back to back, the goblet of Thurnus left in the hands of Clitus Vitellius. Bran Loort held the staff and, behind him, using half of the broken table, Thurnus protected him, fending blows and thrusting out, now and again, with the shattered table. At last he split the remainder of the table over the head of a brute who staggered back. Then Thurnus and Bran Loort, the wall at their back, stood side by side.

I heard a sword leave its sheath. Then I heard six swords more leap from the sheaths. I was frightened.

"No," said Thandar of Ti, standing on a table. He had drawn his own blade. Then, so, too, one after the other, did the four men with him. All were of the warriors.

The men of Ar looked angrily at Thandar of Ti and his men.

"No," said Thandar of Ti, again.

The sword, too, of Clitus Vitellius, my master, the captain of Ar, had left its sheath. He had placed Thurnus's paga on a nearby table. He stood between Thumus and Bran Loort, and the men threatening them.

"I must agree with my fellow of the warriors," said Clitus Vitellius. "It is not proper that you should attack with. steel those who defend themselves with wood."

"What he says is true," said a man. "We are of Ar!" He resheathed his blade.

"Free paga for all!" cried Thandar of Ti.

"And I," called Clitus Vitellius, "will fee the second round of cups!"

"Cheers for the peasants!" cried a man, with bloody face.

"Cheers for the peasants!" they cried. Then they surrounded Thurnus and Bran Loort, pounding them on the back.

"I shall not sing," promised Thurnus.

"Bring paga!" cried Busebius to the girls, who had drawn back, frightened. With a scurrying flight of bells they hurried to their work.

"And what are you doing here, miserable Bran Loort?" demanded Thurnus.

Bran Loort put down his head. "I have taken service here," he said. "I am shamed that you should find me here."

"Rightfully so," roared Thurnus. He had retrieved his goblet now, handed to him by Clitus Vitellius, and, throwing his head back, splashed its contents down his throat.

"What are you doing here?" asked Bran Loort. "Is it not time to harvest the Sa-Tarna?"

"I thought you might have forgotten," said Thurnus.

"No," said Bran Loort.

Thurnus regarded the young man. "It is certainly a great surprise to me," he said, "to find you here. But, as it turned out, it was fortunate."

"I am pleased," said Bran Loort, "if I could be of service."

"An amazing coincidence," marveled Thurnus. Clitus Vitellius smiled.

"Yes," admitted Bran Loort, puzzled.

"More paga!" called Thurnus. A girl filled his cup. Swiftly again the contents vanished.

"But what are you doing here?" asked Bran Loort, suddenly, shrewdly. "It is time to harvest the Sa-Tarna."

"I am looking for men," he said, "to aid in the harvest."

"I am strong," said Bran Loort. There were tears in his eyes.

"Good," said Thurnus. Bran Loort embraced him, weeping. "Drink a cup of paga," said Thurnus. "Then we must go. The Sa-Tarna grows impatient."

Bran Loort cried out with joy and whirled about, arms uplifted, like a child running and turning in the sun. He seized a cup and tore a vessel of paga from a startled girl and filled it himself. He threw his head back and drained the cup and flung it away.

"He has much to learn," said Thurnus, "but someday he will be a caste leader. He will have, too, his own Home Stone."

"I am pleased," said Clitus Vitellius, "to have been of service."

Thurnus grasped his hand. "My thanks, Warrior!" said he.

Bran Loort looked at me. "I am so happy!" he cried. "You are so beautiful, Dina! So beautiful!"

"I am pleased if Master is pleased," I said. I was very happy for Bran Loort.

Bran Loort looked to Clitus Vitellius and the warrior smiled, and lifted his hand.

"Oh," I cried. Bran Loort seized me by the hair, which was now long enough to permit a master to grasp it.

"Come, Slave Beauty!" he cried and, bending me over, my hands trying to grasp his wrist, ran me, stumbling, to the nearest alcove. He did not even draw the curtain. I turned. I shrank back, my back against the rear wall of the alcove. I drew up my legs.

"How beautiful you are, Dina!" he cried. "How beautiful you are! I nm so happy, and you are so beautiful! You are so beautiful!"

"Remove quickly your garment," he said, happily, "or I will tear it from your body!"

I undid the five buttons, red, which ran from the throat of the garment to the waist. Buttons, interestingly, were a relatively recent innovation in some Gorean slavewear. They are not used on the garments of free persons. Most Gorean garments do not have buttons, but are slipped on, or held with brooches or pins. Hooks, however, are used with some frequency. Buttons, interestingly, are regarded as rather sensuous on Gor. Buttons, obviously, may be unbuttoned, or cut away with a knife, thus revealing the slave. Many masters do not permit a girl to button her tunic in the privacy of their compartments. When a slave opens the door of the master's compartment and kneels, head down, say, to admit a visitor, her garment may have been closed only an instant before. This is also true of a hooked slave garment. Slaves, too, may be kept nude in the compartments. These, before answering the door, will usually don a light tunic, slipping it over their heads or wrapping it about their shoulders. When one sees the slave one does not know if, a moment before, she has been beautifully naked in her slavery or if, when the door closes, she has again, behind the door, stripped herself for her master's pleasure. I undid, too, the red, rep-cloth sash of the tunic. The buttons and sash on the tunic were red. The tunic itself, sleeveless, was white. I slipped the tunic over my head and, hastily, cast it aside. I now faced Bran Loort clad only in the collar of my master and my brand.

"You are beautiful, Dma!" he cried.

"Please do not hurt me," I begged.

Joyfully he seized my ankles and dragged me to him, and then, with a peasant's roughness, thrust them widely apart.

"Please, Master," I begged.

"I am so happy," he cried. "And you, Dina, pretty little slave, are so beautiful!"

"Oh!" I cried. "Oh!" And I seized him. I threw my head back. I think that Bran Loort, overcome in his joy, had little time or patience for either his own pleasure or mine.

"Oh!" I cried.

Then he was finished with me and I was shaking. He covered me with kisses.

"I am so happy!" he cried. He then crouched beside me, and kissed me again. "The Sa-Tarna must be harvested," he said.

"Yes, Master," I said.

"I wish you well, Dina," he said.

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

He then leapt from the alcove to find Thurnus. They left the tavern together. I was left lying on the furs. After a few minutes, I pulled my garment over my head, buttoned it and retied the sash. I went to kneel behind Clitus Vitellius. He was drinking with Thandar of Ti, and his four men. They were being served by Slave Beads.

"The Salerian Confederation," Clitus Vitellius was saying, "is a threat to the security of Ar."

"Correct," said Thandar of Ti.

"You seem distracted," said Clitus Vitellius, who apparently wished to discuss politics.

Thandar of Ti was watching Slave Beads who, head down, was pouring him drink.

"A pretty little slave," said Clitus Vitellius.

"Yes," said Thandar of Ti. He reached forth and, gently, touched Slave Beads about the throat, as she poured the drink. She blushed, and trembled, head down. "Kneel before the table, Slave," he said to her. She did so, putting the paga vessel to one side. She knelt in the position of the pleasure slave. She was briefly silked, perfumed, collared and belled. I had learned earlier, in speaking with the girls, that Thandar of Ti, when in Ar, came often to the Belled Collar. I had little doubt that the small beauty, Slave Beads, was the reason. "Do you think I should buy her?" asked Thandar of Ti of Clitus Vitellius, as he regarded the lineaments and beauty of the girl. Slave Beads shook with emotion. She almost broke the position of the pleasure slave. "She is a beauty," said Clitus Vitellius. "If she pleases you, make an offer to Busebius."

"Busebius!" called Thandar of Ti.

I thought Slave Beads might faint.

"I have taken a fancy," said Thandar of Ti to Busebius, who had hurried to the table, "to this little slut of a slave," indicating Slave Beads. "I will give you a silver tarsk for her."

"Master is generous," said Busebius, "to offer so much for so miserable a girl."

"Then it is done?" asked Thandar of Ti.

"Five tarsks," said Busebius.

"'Scoundrel!" said Thandar of Ti. "I will give you two."

"Now done!" laughed Busebius. He was pleased. He had made a profit on Slave Beads whom he had had, I understood, for less than one silver tarsk in the market, and had yet retained the good will of Thandar of Ti, a valued customer.

Slave Beads slipped to the floor in a faint. She Was still unconscious when Busebius removed his bells, and collar and silk from her, leaving her naked, save for her brand, lying on the tiles beside the table. She had not yet regained consciousness when Thandar of Ti placed his slave bracelets on her, braceleting her small wrists before her body.

In a few moments she regained consciousness, opening her eyes, discovering herself nude beside the table, in his bracelets. "Am I yours, Master?" she asked, lifting her braceleted wrists to him. "Yes, Slave," he said. She knelt before him, reaching out to him, weeping with joy. She looked to me once, that I might not reveal what had once been her identity. She had once been the Lady Sabina of Fortress of Saphronicus, the daughter of Kleomenes, of Fortress of Saphronicus, promised in Companion Contract, in a proposed political alliance intended to further the fortunes of Fortress of Saphronicus and the Salerian Confederation, to the fifth son of the warrior, Ebullius Gaius Cassius, the Administrator of Ti, Thandar of Ti, also of the warriors.

He rose to his feet. She looked up at him. Thandar of Ti, her master, regarded her. She had once been promised to him in Companion Contract, as a Free Companion; now he had purchased her as a slave.

"I love you, Master," she said.

"Let us return to the inn," said one of the men. "I think we have a slave here who is eager to serve her master."

"Rise, Slave," said Thandar of Ti.

She did so, standing before him, her wrists braceleted before her body.

"Lovely," he said.

"Thank you, Master," she said.

He examined her thigh. "A fine brand," he said. He brushed back her hair and turned her head from side to side, holding her chin in his hand. "Pierced ears," he said. "Excellent." He stepped back, admiring her as superb slave flesh.

"A good buy," said one of his men.

"Yes," he said.

He looked down into her eyes. "I think I shall call you 'Sabina, " he said.

She started. "Master?" she asked. She looked at me. But I was confused. I had not spoken her secret to anyone.

"Is it not a lovely name for a slave?" he asked.

"Yes, Master," she said. "It is a lovely name for a slave."

"You little she-sleen," he laughed, seizing her by the arms, "do you not think I know who you once were?"

"Master?" she asked.

"You were once Sabina, the daughter of Kleomenes," he laughed, "once promised to me in Companion Contract."

She looked at him, wildly.

"Now, of course, you are only a slave," he said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"When the Companionship was under consideration by the Council of the Confederation," he said, "I slipped away, on tarn, to Fortress of Saphronicus. I spied on you, to see if you pleased me."

"Pleased!" she cried. It is beneath the dignity of a free woman to please a man. Slave girls please men.

"Yes," he said.

"It must have been difficult," she said, "for you to tell, I clothed in the robes of concealment, if I pleased you."

"You recall your quarters," he asked, "and the window, high in the wall."

"Yes," she said.

"It may be reached by a rope, from the roof," he said.

She gasped.

"You were quite beautiful in your bath," he said.

She looked down, confused, blushing.

"Is a slave modest?" he asked.

"No, Master," she said. Then she looked up at him, shyly. "Did you find me pleasing, truly?" she asked.

"Yes, quite," he said. "The girl, Marla, too, and the others," he said, "were also quite beautiful."

"Yes," she said. "My serving slaves were beautiful." She looked up at him. "Were they more beautiful than I?" she asked.

"Not to me," he said.

"I am pleased," she said.

"You can well understand my dilemma," he said. "Seeing you I wanted you. You were one of those women who is so feminine and attractive that a man finds it difficult to think of you in terms other than jealous ownership. I wanted to own you. I wanted you at my feet naked, in my collar. Yet you were intended to be my companion. How could one relate to a girl as feminine and beautiful as you, I ask you, other than as a master to a slave?"

"I do not know," she said.

"Besides," he said, "you were only of the merchants. It is unseemly for a Warrior to take as a companion the daughter of a merchant. I detest the politics which seemed to make such a match expedient. Surely I was not consulted in the negotiations."

"No, Master," she said. "Nor was I," she added, pointing this out.

"But you are a woman," he said.

"That is true," she said.

"The daughters of merchants," he said, "are fit only to be the slaves of Warriors."

"Oh, Master?" she asked, archly.

"Yes," he said, evenly, regarding her.

"Yes, Master," she said, dropping her eyes.

"Besides," he said, "you, free, were an arrogant she-sleen. You needed enslaving, collaring and whipping."

"Yes, Master," she said, frightened.

"I resolved to refuse the companionship," said Thandar of Ti. "I resolved to flee the city." He grinned. "As it turned out," he said, "that was not necessary."

"How did master find me?" she asked.

"There is a fellowship among Warriors," he said. Clitus Vitellius smiled.

"Thank you, Master," said Slave Beads, now Sabina, to Clitus Vitellius.

He nodded, accepting her thanks.

Sabina, the slave, turned again to face Thandar of Ti, looking up at him. "You have found me," she said. "You own me." There were tears in her eyes. "I had hoped," she said, "that my identity might have remained unknown to you."

"Why?" he asked, puzzled.

She looked down, confused. She shook her head.

"Why?" he asked.

"Must I speak?" she asked.

"You are a slave," he said angrily. "Speak."

She looked up at him, boldly, tears in her eyes. "Because," she said, "I wanted you to keep me as a slave!" She looked down again, confused. "I sense," she said, "that you are my true master, and I am your true slave."

The men looked at one another, cognizing well the confession of the small, beautiful slave.

"Too," she said, "I did not wish my fate, known, to dishonor you."

"That the flank of a merchant's daughter has met the iron cannot dishonor me," said Thandar of Ti.

"I see that it cannot," she said, a bit angrily. But it was true. What is it on Gor that a girl is caught and branded, and made a slave?

"But now, in honor, knowing my fate," she said, "you must free me."

"Oh?" he said.

"Yes," she said. "You will now free me, and once again the plans of Fortress of Saphronicus and the Salerian Confederation will proceed as before. I, freed, will be repledged to you in Companionship. Matters then, regardless of our wishes, will be as they were before."

Thandar of Ti laughed. Clitus Vitellius smiled.

"Master?" she asked.

How beautiful she looked, naked before him, in his bracelets.

"A fine brand," said Thandar of Ti, surveying her thigh.

"Now that you know who I am," she said, "you must free me."

He turned her head from side to side. "And pierced ears," he said.

"Surely you are going to free me," she said.

"You are the daughter of a merchant," he said. "The daughters of merchants are fit only to be the slaves of warriors."

"You are going to free me!" she cried.

"Kneel to be collared," he said.

"Master!" she cried.

"Bring a whip," he said to one of his men.

Swiftly she knelt. The whip would not be necessary. Sabina, the slave, looked up at Thandar of Ti, astonishment in her eyes, and wonder and love. She knew then the nature of the man, and his strength, who owned her.

"Bring the collar," said Thandar of Ti to one of his men.

The collar, from his belongings, was brought.

"I have found a slave who pleases me," he said. "I am collaring her."

He cared naught for the politics of cities, nor did he fear the wrath of states. He was a warrior.

He stepped behind the girl and, in the manner of Ti and certain other cities, thrust down her head and held ready the opened collar.

"Submit," he said.

"I submit myself, totally, Master," she said.

Roughly he shut the collar, enclosing her lovely throat in the obdurate band of slave steel. He then, with his foot, spurned her to the floor.

"Throw me among your women, Master," she begged.

"I shall," he said. He then turned away and strode from the tavern.

But I had little doubt the lovely Sabina would be his preferred slave.

One of Thandar of Ti's men sought out Busebius, and made settlement of the bill.

"He is keeping me as a slave," said Sabina to me, elatedly. "How strong and marvelous he is! I fear only I will not be able to love him enough!"

I kissed her. It is difficult for a girl not to esteem a man who does as he pleases, even though it is to her that it be done. A woman admires strength, especially if it is used to dominate and control her. It is, it seems, for men to command and women to obey, for men to dominate and women to submit, for men to claim and for women to yield. It is, it seems, the way of primate nature. Its test is enactment; its proof is joy; its evidence is love. If we have lost this, we have lost part of ourselves.

"I wish you well," cried Sabina. "I wish you all well!"

"I wish you well!" I cried.

The others, too, paga girls in the tavern, wished her well.

Thandar of Ti's men went to the portal of the tavern. One of them turned about. "Will it be necessary to leash you, Slave?" he asked.

"No, Master!" cried Sabina, and hurried to follow them. We watched them leave the tavern.

"It is time," said Clitus Vitellius, "for us to he on our way to the Curulean."

I reached out, timidly, to touch him. "Please, Master," I begged.

He looked at me, almost tenderly. I thought him sad. "Very well," he said.

He indicated that I should precede him to one of the alcoves.

I entered the alcove, and slipped away the street tunic. He closed the curtain behind us.

"Many times," I said, lightly, "I pleased the customers of Busebius in this very alcove."

He took me in his arms. It startled me, for he touched me gently.

"I shall miss you, Dina," he said.

"There are many girls," I said.

"Yes," he said, "there are many girls."

"You will soon forget me," I said.

He brushed my hair with his hand. "Your hair," he said, "will be too short, I wager, until the spring."

"Doubtless," I said, "it will lower my price."

He kissed me.

"Will you come to see me in the exhibition cages?" I asked. In most markets girls are displayed publicly in exhibition cages prior to their sale. This is almost always the case in the Curulean.

"No," he said.

"Oh," I said.

He kissed me, again, softly, tenderly.

"Keep me!" I begged suddenly.

"No," he said.

I tried not to cry.

"It is strange," he said, "I have faced wild sleen and the steel of fierce enemies. I am a warrior, and am high among warriors. Yet you, a mere girl, would conquer me with a smile and a tear."

"No, Master," I said.

"Surely you must understand," he said.

"A slave girl requires no explanation," I said. "It is hers only to obey."

"You see," he said, angrily. "You make me weak!"

"Then conquer me," I said.

"You are different from all the others!" he said, angrily.

"Yet I am only a slave," I said. "Treat me as such!"

"You should be tied at the slave ring and whipped," he said.

"Tie me at the ring," I said. "Whip me!"

"A warrior," he said, "must be hard and fierce."

"Be hard and fierce with me," I said.

"You want to be conquered and enslaved, don't you, you slut?" he said.

"Yes," I said. "I am a woman."

He sat up beside me; "How you must despise my weakness," he said.

"Yes," I said, angrily. "I despise your weakness."

He looked at me, in fury.

"I love you," I said.

He slapped aside my head, bringing blood to my mouth. "Lying slave," he said.

Then he seized me, and well vented his anger upon me. I was well used.

When he had finished with me, he said, "Get up. We must go to the Curulean."

I slipped the tunic on, and sashed it, and, one by one, by the five buttons, closed it. I wished he had torn it open and would march me through the streets as an exposed slave, that other girls might see the strength of the man who owned me.

We left the tavern and made our way to the Curulean, to a back entrance.

I looked at the stout iron door, behind which I would be sold.

"We must enter," he said to me.

"Do with me what you want," I said to him.

"I am," he said.

"Are you?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

I looked up at him.

"I am a warrior," he said. "I cannot be weak."

"You are weak now," I said.

"No," he said.

"I despise your weakness," I said.

"How am I weak?" he asked.

"You do not want to sell me," I said. "Yet you are doing so."

"I do want to sell you," he said.

"Look at me," I said.

He regarded me.

"What do you see?" I asked.

"A slave girl," he said.

"What now," I asked, "do you truly want to do with me?"

"Sell you," he said.

"No," I said. "You want me in your compartments. You want me at your feet. You want me in your collar. You want notto sell me, but to master me, to own me."

"I want many things from you," he said.

"Then command them, take them," I challenged. "Did you trace me to Ar, and follow me to Cos, to sell me?"

He looked angry.

"No," I said. "You wanted me slave, naked on your chain."

"Yes!" he said, angrily. "I wanted you a naked slave on my chain, mine!"

"Strip me!" I cried. "Chain me!"

"No," he said.

I subsided. "Sell me," I said wearily. "The decision is yours. I am slave."

He pounded on the iron door.

"I had thought Clitus Vitellius strong," I said. "I had thought him of the Warriors. I had thought he had the power to do as he wills with a woman. I see now he is too weak to do with a woman what truly he wants, what pleases him."

He struck again on the iron door.

"He is weak," I said. "A slave despises him."

"Do not make me angry," he said.

I looked away. I had nothing to fear from him.

I heard feet approaching the iron door, from the other side. A small, lateral panel in the door, about eye level, slid back. "Your business?" inquired a voice.

"The vending of a girl," said Clitus Vitellius.

The panel slid shut. A moment later the door swung open. "Enter, Master," said a man.

We entered and found a large room, floored with cement. A yellow circle, in outline, narrow-bordered, the border some six inches in width, the circle itself some ten feet in width, was painted on the cement. A man, at a small, four-legged table, sat to one side. "Remove her tunic and collar," he said. Clitus Vitellius did so. We did not speak.

"Kneel in the circle, Slave," said the man at the table. The fellow who had opened the door stood to one side. A coiled, rawhide rope, on a clip, hung from his belt. I went to the circle and knelt in its center, on the cement. The man with the rope entered the circle and loosed the rope from his belt. He tied it about my neck. The knot was at the side, under my left ear. He backed away, giving me some five feet of slack..The remainder of the rope he held, in long, loose loops, in his right hand. I knew it would serve to whip me, if necessary.

I would be put through slave paces.

"Give me whatever you think she is worth," he said, "and send the coins to the compartments of Clitus Vitellius, in the Towers of Warriors."

"Yes, Master," said the man at the table.

Clitus Vitellius turned about and left the Curulean.

I knelt alone in the yellow circle on the cement.

I felt the rope on my throat pull taut. I sensed the swinging loops of leather near me.

The man rose from behind the table and came to the circle. He looked down at me. "Well now, little beauty," he said, "let us see what you can do."

"Yes, Master," I said.