Vagabonds of Gor

12 It is Thought That There are the Cries of Vosk Gulls

"There is one who would see you," said my keeper.

I looked up from the sand, where I lay, gagged, tethered between two stakes, my hands manacled behind my back.

"Clean him up," said a fellow, one I had not seen before. "Brush his hair, wash him, quickly," said another, also a fellow I had not seen before. "Make him presentable."

My ankles were freed. The rope on my neck was removed for the moment it took them to kneel me, and then it was restored, now measured to my kneeling position. Sand and mud were wiped from me. My hands remained manacled behind my back. My hair was brushed.

"Remove his gag," said one of the men. "Leave its materials on the neck-rope, where they may be easily replaced." This was done.

"Do you want a cloth for his loins?" asked my keeper.

"That will not be necessary," said the other man.

"What is going on?" I asked.

"You are to be interrogated," said one of the men.

"Is he securely manacled?" asked a voice. I was startled. So, too, might have been any who heard such, here in the delta. It was a woman's voice!

"That he is, Lady," said one of the two men.

She approached daintily, distastefully, disdainfully, across the wet sand, in her slippers. They were probably quite expensive. I think she did not want to ruin them.

She regarded me.

She was small and her figure, obscured to be sure under the heavy fabrics of the robes of concealment, surely uncomfortable, and seemingly incongruous, in the delta, seemed cuddly. She was veiled, as is common for Gorean women in the high cities, particularly those of station. In some cities the veil is prescribed by law for free women, as well as by custom and etiquette; and in most cities it is prohibited, by law, to slaves.

"Withdraw," said she to those about. "I would speak with him privately."

My keeper checked the manacles on my wrists and the length, stoutness and fastening of the neck-rope. Then he, with the others, withdrew.

She lifted the hems of her robes a tiny bit, lifting them a bit from the wet sand, holding them in one hand. She did not, I gathered, wish them soiled. She seemed haughty, displeased, disdainful, fastidious. Doubtless there were places other than the delta which she would have preferred to frequent, such as the arcades, the courts and shops of Ar. I could see the toes of her embroidered slippers.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

I looked beyond her, out, back past torches. Now that I was on my knees and the men were to one side, I could see the lines of the barge, purple and gilded, near the bank, that with the golden cabin, covered with golden netting.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked.

I saw that she did not raise the hems of her robes more than a hort or two, scarcely enough to lift them from the sand. The soldiers of Ar, regulars, were closely and exactly disciplined. Yet I suspected that she had enough woman's sense not to reveal her ankles among them. They were, of course, men, and Gorean men, and had been long from a woman.

"It seems you have been gagged," she said, looking at the binding, and the sodden wadding, wrapped about my neck-rope.

"Yes," I said.

"Susceptibility to the gag is a liability of prisoners," she said, "enforceable at a moment's notice, at the whim of a captor."

"Of course," I said.

"And I," she said, "have the authority. I assure you, to have it replaced on you, perfectly, immediately.

"I understand," I said.

"I am Ina, Lady of Ar," she said, "of the staff of Saphronicus, general in the north."

"I know," I said.

"I am an observer," she said, "on behalf of Talena, Lady of Ar, daughter of Marlenus."

"Once daughter of Marlenus," I said. "She was sworn from him, disinherited, disowned, fully."

"It seems you are familiar with the politics of Ar," she said.

"It seems to me unusual," I said, "that such a woman, disowned, disinherited, surely once sequestered in the central cylinder, in disgrace, should be able to post an observer in the delta."

"Her fortunes rise," she said. "I gather so," I said.

"You are Tan, of Port Kar?" she asked. "Perhaps," I said.

"You will answer my questions expeditiously!" she said. I was silent.

"Spread your knees!" she snapped. I did so.

"You are Tarl, of Port Kar," she said.

"I have been known variously," I said, "in various places."

"You are Tarl, of Port Kar!" she said, angrily. "Yes," I said. I was Tarl, of Port Kar, city of the great arsenal, city of many canals, Jewel of Gleaming Thassa.

"You are a handsome fellow, Tarl," she said.

I was silent.

"But there are many marks on your body," she chided. "From various things," I said, "from blows, from ropes, from harness, from the slash of rence, from the bites and stings of insects, from the fastening places of marsh leeches."

She shuddered.

"It is difficult to traverse the delta unscathed," I said, "particularly when one is naked, in the water, harnessed, drawing a raft."

"Such employments are suitable for a spy," she laughed.

"Doubtless," I said.

"You look well, naked, shackled, on your knees before me," she said, "spy of Cos."

"Doubtless your robes of concealment are uncomfortable in the delta, given the moisture, the heat," I said.

She looked at me, angrily.

"Doubtless you would be more comfortable, if they were removed."

"Today," she said, angrily, "we have won a great victory."

"Over Cosians?" I asked.

"In a way," she said, petulantly.

"No," I said, "over rencers."

Her eyes flashed over the veil.

"Men of the right flank stumbled on a village of rencers," I said. "That is all." I had surmised this, from the information coming from the right this afternoon.

"Rencers are allies of those of Cos!" she said.

The influence of Cos was strong in the delta, to be sure, there as it was in the western reaches of the Vosk, but I did not think the rencers would be explicit allies of Cos. They, in their small, scattered communities, tend to be secretive, fiercely independent folk.

"The village was destroyed," she laughed.

"I am sorry to hear it," I said.

"That is because you favor Cos," she said.

"Those of Port Kar," I said, "are at war with Cos." To be sure, this war was largely a matter of skirmishes, almost always at sea, and political formality. There had not been a major engagement since the battle of the 25th of Se'Kara, in the first year of the sovereignty of the Council of Captains in Port Kar, or, to use the chronology of Ar, 10,12 °C.A., Contasta Ar, from the Founding of Ar. In that battle the forces of Port Kar had defeated the combined fleets of Cos and Tyros.

"Those of Port Cos doubtless have their traitors, as well as those of other cities," she said.

"I suppose so," I said.

"But you may lament for your allies, the rencers," she laughed.

"It was not only they for whom I was sorry," said I.

"For whom, then?" she asked.

"For those of Ar, as well," said I.

"I do not understand," I said.

"Surely there were warning signals, cloth on wandlike rence stems, white, then later red, raised in the vicinity of the rencers' village."

"Such were mentioned in the reports," she said.

"Yet your scouts proceeded," I said.

"Ar goes where she pleases," said she. "Too, such markers could have been set up by Cosians."

"They serve to warn away strangers," I said. "In the vicinity of such markers Cosians would be no more welcome than those of Ar."

"We of Ar do not fear," she laughed. "Too, it does not matter now. Victory was ours. The village was destroyed."

"Was your barge seen in the vicinity of the village?" I asked.

"I suppose so," she said. "Were there survivors?" I asked. "I do not know," she said. I was silent.

"It was a great victory," she said.

I was silent. I had once known some rencers. To be sure, the groups with which I was familiar were far to the west, indeed, in the vicinity of the tidal marshes themselves.

"Concern yourself with the matter no longer, my helpless, handsome spy," she laughed. "It is over, it is done with. It is finished."

"Perhaps," I said.

"Listen," she said. "I hear Vosk gulls, out in the marsh."

"Perhaps," I said. "What do you mean?" she asked. I was again silent.

"I have men at my beck and command," she warned me.

"For what purpose have you come," I asked, "to torment me?"

"Spread your knees more widely," she snapped. I did so.

She laughed. "As I understand it," she said, "you were, though a prisoner, earlier displeasing in speech."

"Have you the ear of an officer?" I asked, suddenly.

"Present them to officers," I said. "Plead that they be considered!"

"I think not," she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"They are the quaint ravings of a spy," she said.

"You do not believe that," I said.

"No," she said. "Of course not."

"Convey them then to officers," I said, "swiftly, clearly!"

"No," she laughed.

I suddenly knelt back. "You!" I said. "You are the spy! You are with them!"

"Yes," she laughed. "I am with them!"

"It is for that reason you wished to interrogate me," I said, "to see what I might know, or have guessed."

"Of course," she said.

"I have been a fool," I said.

"Like all men," she said.

But I think," said I, "that I am not the only fool here."

"How is that?" she asked.

"You are in the delta, too," I said.

"My barge will protect me," she said. "It is known. Cosians have orders not to fire upon it, to let it pass."

"I do not think I would care to trust that information," I said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You know a great deal," I said. "Your life, in my opinion, is not as safe as you seem to think it is."

"I do not care to listen to such nonsense," she said. I shrugged.

"But there is another reason I wanted to interrogate you," she said.

"What is that?" I asked.

"I heard from slaves in Ven, serving slaves, collared sluts, who saw you caged, before we came west, that you were an attractive and powerful beast." She laughed. "It seems the sight of you made them juice."

"They know perhaps what it is to obey a man," I said.

"Perhaps," she laughed.

"And you," I said, "do you juice?"

"Do not be vulgar!" she said.

"But perhaps there is less to fear for your life than I thought," I said. "Perhaps there is another disposition planned for you."

"What?" she asked.

"The collar," I said.

"Sleen!" she hissed.

"If when stripped you proved sufficiently beautiful," I added.

"Sleen, sleen!" she said.

"Let us see your legs," I said. She stiffened in anger.

"The robes of concealment must be bulky, hot, uncomfortable in the delta," I said. "The rence girls go barefoot, commonly, or wear rence sandals, and short tunics."

"It is you who are the prisoner!" she said.

"And their slaves are sometimes not permitted clothing at all."

"Sleen," she said.

"Except perhaps a rope collar," I said.

"It is you who are stripped," she said. "It is you who are shackled, who have a rope on your neck!"

"Perhaps stripped, and in chains, in the shadow of a whip," I said, "you, too, could learn to juice before men."

She trembled with rage. I thought she would hurry forward, to strike me, but then I did not think, even shackled as I was, that she cared to approach within the ambit of my neck rope. Then her body relaxed. "Ah," she laughed, "you are clever, for a man. You seek to make me angry."

I shrugged. "They are simple conjectures," I said.

Again she stiffened in anger, but then, again, relaxed. She looked down at me. "What an impudent fellow you are," she laughed. "I think I shall have you beaten."

I was silent.

"Has it been long since you have had a woman?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "Perhaps you have one or two serving slaves with you, one of whom, perhaps, as a discipline, you might order to my pleasure?"

"Alas," she laughed. "I have not brought such slaves with me into the delta. They might learn too much. Also, their presence, such scantily clad, collared creatures, might too severely test the discipline of the men."

"It must be difficult for you," I said, "to be in the delta without serving slaves."

"It is terrible," she admitted. "I must even comb my own hair."

"A significant hardship," I acknowledged.

"And an embarrassing one," she said.

"Without doubt," I said.

"You speak ironically," she said.

"Not at all," I said. "For a woman such as you, such inconveniences must be all but intolerable."

"They are," she said.

"Is Saphronicus your lover?" I asked.

"No," she said.

I nodded. A man such as Saphronicus could have his pick of slaves, of course. With such an abundance of riches at his disposal he would not be likely to concern himself with a free female. To be sure, they are sometimes of economic, political or social interest to ambitious men, men interested in using them to improve their fortunes, further their careers, and so on. To satisfy their deeper needs, those of pleasure and the mastery, for example, slaves may be kept on the side. The slave, of course, like the sleen or verr, a mere domestic animal, like them, is seldom in a position to improve, say, a fellow's social connections. An occasional exception is the secret slave whom most believe to be still free, her true relationship being concealed, at least for a time, by her master's will, from the public. This deception is difficult to maintain, of course, for as the woman grows in her slavery, it becomes more and more evident in her, in her behavior, her movements, her voice, and such. Also she soon longs for the openness of bondage, that her inward truth may now be publicly proclaimed, that she may now appear before the world, and be shown before the world, as what she is, a slave. Sometimes this is done in a plaza, or other public place, with a public stripping by her master. It is dangerous, sometimes, to be a secret slave, then revealed, for Goreans do not like to be duped. Sometimes they vent their anger on the slave, with blows and lashings, though it seems to me the blame, if any, in such cases, is perhaps less with the slave than the master. To be sure, she probably suggested her secret enslavement to begin with, perhaps even begging it. In any event, she is normally joyful to at last, publicly, be permitted to kneel before her master. By the time it is done, of course, many, from behavioral cues, will have already detected, or suspected, the truth. Such inferences, of course, can be mistaken, for many free women, in effect, exhibit similar behaviors, and such. That is because they, though legally free, within the strict technicalities of the law, are yet slaves. It is only that they have not yet been put in the collar. And the sooner it is done to them the better for them, and the community as a whole. But then I thought that the Lady Ina, perhaps, would not have high enough standing to be of interest in, say, political modalities to a man such as Saphronicus. To be sure, she might be of interest in some other fashion.

"Saphronicus does not interest me," she said.

"Perhaps he has you in mind for a collar," I said.

"Sleen," she laughed.

"Then you would have to attempt desperately to interest him," I said.

She drew her robes up a little, to reveal her ankles. She was a vain wench. This she did I think not only to show herself off, for it seemed to me that she was muchly pleased with herself, but also to torture me. She knew that so little a thing, event the glimpse of an ankle, may be torture to a sex-starved man.

"My ankles," she said.

"Lady Ina is cruel," I observed. She laughed.

"They are a bit thick, are they not?" I asked. She thrust down her robes, angrily.

"But they would look well in shackles," I said. "I will have you whipped," she said.

"Do you not think they would look well in shackles?" I asked.

"I do not know," she said, hesitantly. She stepped back.

"Surely you would be curious to know," I said.

"No!" she said.

"Surely all women are curious to know if their ankles would look well in shackles," I said.

"No!" she said. As I have mentioned, Lady Ina was short, and her figure, though muchly concealed beneath the robes, suggested cuddliness, that it would fit very nicely, even deliciously, within the arms of a master. Similarly I did not, in actuality, regard her ankles as too thick. I thought that they were splendid, and, indeed, would take shackles very nicely.

"And surely," I said, "they are interested in knowing what they would bring on the auction block."

"No! No!" she said.

"What do you think you would bring?" I inquired.

"Sleen!" she said.

"Perhaps not much," I said.

"Do you not clearly understand," she asked, "that it is you, not I, who are the prisoner?"

"I think," I said, "you would sell for an average amount of copper tarsks."

"It will be ten lashes for you!" she said.

"Strange," I said, "that it is I who have labored on behalf of Ar who kneel here in the sand, shackled, said to be a spy for Cos, and that it is you who are precisely such an agent who should stand here, above me, thought to be a partisan of Ar."

"I am a free woman!" she said. "I am priceless!"

"Until you are stripped and sold," I said.

"I would bring a high price!" she said.

"I doubt it," I said.

"I am beautiful!" she said.

"Perhaps," I said. "It is hard to tell."

"Beware," she said, "lest I be truly cruel to you, lest I truly torment you, lest I lower my veil and permit you to glimpse, ever so briefly, my beauty, a beauty which you will never possess, which you will never kiss or touch, a brief glimpse which you must then carry with you, recalled in frustration and agony, through the marsh!"

"Could you not part your robes, as well," I asked, "that I might be even more tormented?"

She stiffened again in anger, in fury.

"Your figure, at least," I said, "from what I surmise, would be likely to look quite well on a slave block."

She made an angry noise.

I saw that she wanted to lower her veil.

"Am I not to be permitted," I asked, "to look upon the face of my enemy?"

I was silent.

"Doubtless we will never see one another again," she said.

"Doubtless," I said.

"Look then," she said, reaching to the pin at the left of her veil, "on the face of your enemy!"

Like all women she was vain. She wished an assessment of her beauty.

Slowly, gracefully, was the veil lowered. I looked upon her.

"A" Yes," she said, eagerly. "I am your enemy!" m I not beautiful?" she challenged.

"I shall now know you," I said, "if ever we meet again."

"You tricked me," she said.

I shrugged. I had wanted, too, to see her, of course. Too, I was sure she had wanted me, a male, to look upon her. One of the things which many free women resent about female slaves is that they are commonly denied the veil, that men may look openly, as they please, upon them.

"I do not think we shall meet again," she said.

"Probably not," I said.

"Am I not beautiful?" she asked.

"I do not know if you are beautiful," I said. "You are pretty."

"Beautiful!" she demanded.

"Your face is too hard, too tense, too cold, to be beautiful," I said.

"Beautiful!" she insisted.

"If you were in a collar for a few weeks," I said, "your face would soften, and become more sensitive, more delicate and feminine. Too, as you learned service, obedience and love, and the categoricality of your condition, and your inalterable helplessness within it, many changes would take place in you, in your body, your face, your psychology, your dispositions, and such. Your entire self would become more loving, more sexual, more sensitive, more delicate and feminine. You would find yourself, too, more relaxed, yet, too, more alive, more eager, more vital, such things connected, simply enough, with your depth fulfillments as a woman."

"As a slave!" she said.

"Yes," I said. "That is what a woman is, most deeply, most lovingly, a slave."

She shuddered.

"And then," I said, "I think it possible that your face might be no longer merely pretty, but, flushed and radiant, tending to express in its way your happiness, your fulfillment, your truth, your awareness that you then occupied, and would continue to occupy, and helplessly, your proper place in nature, very pretty."

"And then my price?" she asked.

"There are many beautiful women on Gor," I said.

"And then my price!" she insisted.

"For a superb, cuddly slut?" I asked.

"My price!" she demanded.

"Probably an average number of copper tarsks," I said.

"Guards!" she cried, in fury, at the same time angrily lifting the corner of her veil, fumbling with it, repinning it. Men had hurried to her side. She pointed to me. "It is true," she cried. "He is a spy, a sleen of Cos. Too, he intends to spread seditious rumors among the troops. Give him ten lashes, of suitable severity!"

"It will be done, lady," said my keeper.

"Then see that he is gagged, thoroughly," she said.

"Yes, lady," said the keeper.

Already a fellow was loosening one of the shackles. In a moment my hands were manacled before my body.

"Kneel to the whip," said the keeper.

I knelt, my head to the sand.

In a moment I heard the hiss of the lash. Then it had fallen on me ten times.

I was then pulled up, kneeling, and my hands were again fastened behind my back. The wadding of the gag was thrust in my mouth, deeply. It was then fastened in place, the binding knotted behind the back of my neck, tightly, painfully. I was then flung to my belly in the sand, my ankles bound closely to one stake, my neck-rope, considerably shortened now, keeping my body stretched, to another.

There was some blood in the sand, near me. "See that he is worked well," she said.

"We shall, lady," my keeper assured her. She then, I think, withdrew.

I lay in the sand, my head turned to the side.

I heard two sting flies hum by, "needle flies," as the men of Ar called them.

It had been very hot in the marsh today. It had been oppressively hot, steamingly hot. I supposed the heat must have been hard for the Lady Ina, in her robes. Muchly she must have suffered in them. Such sacrifices must be made by the fashionable and high born, however. Much more practical for the delta would have been the skimpy garments of female slaves, the brief tunics, the short, open-sided, exciting camisks, the scandalous ta-teeras, or slave rags, indeed, the many varieties of stimulating slave garments, sometimes mere strips and strings, garments deliberately revelatory of imbonded beauty. How unfortunate, I thought, that Lady Ina had no serving slaves with her, to assist her in the intricacies of her toilet. She even had to brush her own hair.

In time my back hurt less.

It had been very hot in the marsh today.

I recalled the ankles of the Lady Ina, and her face. She had shown me her ankles of her own will, and, I suspect, had desired to reveal to me, also, her face. I wondered if it were good that I had looked upon her ankles, her face. It is not like looking on the beauty of a female slave whom one may then, with a snap of the fingers, send to the furs.

"It was hot today," said a man.

"Yes," said another.

Indeed, it had been. I had had an uneasy feeling in that heat, that quiet, oppressive, steaming heat. I had felt almost as if something lay brooding over the marsh, or within it, something dark, something physical, almost like a presence, something menacing.

"What do you think of the Lady Ina?" one fellow asked another.

"A she-sleen," said the other.

"But I would like to get my hands on her," said the first fellow.

"I, too," laughed the second.

It occurred to me how much refuge women have in a civilized world, protected by customs, by artifices, by conventions, by arrangements, by laws. Did they understand, I wondered, the tenuousness of such things, their fragility, their dependence on the will of men. Did they wonder sometimes, I wondered, what might be their lot, or how they might fare, if such things were swept away, if suddenly they no longer existed? Did they understand that then they would as vulnerable as slaves? One wants a civilization, of course. Civilizations are desirable. One would wish to have one. But then, again, there are many sorts of civilizations. Suppose an old order should collapse, or disintegrate, or be destroyed. What would be the nature of the new order? Surely it need not be built on the failed model of the old order. That was an experiment which was tested, and found wanting. It was a mistake. It did not work. What would the new order be like? Let us hope it would be a sounder order, one, for once, fully in harmony with nature. What would the position of women be in the new order, I wondered. Would women have a place in the new order, I wondered. Certainly, I thought, a very secure place.

It would be hard to sleep tonight, for the ropes.

I thought again of the Lady Ina. I wondered, idly, what she might look like, stripped, kneeling, in a collar and chains. She would probably be acceptable, I thought.

I listened to birdlike cries in the marsh. The Lady Ina had thought them Vosk gulls. So, too, did the men. They may, of course, have been right.

Eventually I slept.