Vagabonds of Gor

48 A Slave Whip

The same thought must have occurred to one of Ina's pursuers at about the same time for I could see him now heading for the booth where slave garb was displayed.

In such areas there are usually, at the rear of the sales area, some small, curtained dressing areas. These are not provided to protect the modesty of the slave for, strictly, the slave girl is not permitted modesty but rather to permit her to change unseen and then emerge to be beheld, fully changed, all at once, by her master. The moving aside of the curtain and the stepping forth of the slave in the new ensemble, then, is primarily for the purpose of achieving this effect, that of presenting herself dramatically before the master. She may then turn and move before him, modeling the new ensemble, assuming poses, being put through slave paces in it, whatever he chooses, as he is master. He may then send her back into the curtained area again and again, to try out new outfits. I would suppose that this business of the sudden presentation of the slave before the master, as he may never have seen her before, and the suspense and revelation, and delight, involved, tends to increase sales. The fellow was ahead of me tearing garments from pegs and dragging down ropes of clothes, trampling them underfoot, much to the consternation of the merchant. I saw a girl flee out from behind the counter but she was a brunet and presumably the merchant's, probably used as a model, useful for fellows who did not have their own slave along, or perhaps wished to surprise her by flinging her a new outfit when he returned home, one which she must then wear before him.

I was a few yards from him when he strode to the back of the sales area and, one by one, began to fling back the curtains there. In the fourth place, out of five such places, there was a terrified, crouching girl.

"I have her!" be cried elatedly.

She cowered.

He raised his blade to strike.

"Hold!" I cried.

He turned about, the blade lifted. Ina screamed. She was naked, as she had discarded her slave tunic. This was intelligent on her part, as it would make it easier for her to blend in with most of the other slaves in the camp, such for the most part being kept stripped. He assessed my distance and made his judgment. He turned back to Ina, to cut down at her. But she, taking advantage of this moment of distraction, had crawled behind the side curtain of the next booth. He tore that curtain away. She was gone! He then advanced, slashing, through the curtains, after her. Then he fell, tangled in the curtains. "No!" he cried, looking up at me. There had been nothing wrong with his assessment of my distance, my speed and the time he had. He had miscounted on Ina, however, who had sped from him. Too, he had not counted on losing time moving between the booths. Too, he had not counted on falling. I drove the blade into him.

"Here! Over here!" I heard a man cry.

"Hurry!" I heard another, farther off, cry.

"What of my curtains? What of my shop!" wailed the merchant.

I ducked under a rope of tiny rep-cloth slave tunics, of various solid colors, and was again outside in the main aisles. I then, and two or three other fellows, they keeping their distance, all of us moving purposefully, and as rapidly as was practical, began to examine the cages, the kennels, the fair prisoners of the numerous stakes and posts, of the slave bars, and the chains in our immediate vicinity. Ina must surely be within a few yards of us.

I looked at one woman after another, and some looked out at me, frightened, from behind the bars of their cages and kennels, others shrinking back against their posts and stakes, or cowering with their sisters on their neck chains. I then strode quickly to a slave bar, a rounded, metal bar, about six inches above the surface of the dirt, inserted through, supported by and locked within, at each end, two low, trunklike posts. Girls may be attached to this sort of bar, often anchored in concrete or bolted to a wooden floor, in various fashions. Most of its current prisoners lay close to it, their wrists shackled about it. I reached a given female there before two other fellows. I kicked her in the side with the side of my foot. "Stay with me," I told her.

"Don't kill me!" she wept.

"Then stay with me," I said.

"I am collared, I am branded, I am only a slave!" she said. "Why do they want to kill me?"

"Get up!" I said.

"There she is," said a fellow a few yards away.

"Yes," said one of the closer fellows.

"Octantius is in the camp now," said another, "with the others."

"Splendid!" said a fellow.

"Just keep in contact," said a fellow.

"Let us charge together!" said another.

"Wait," said a fellow.

"There is no hurry," said another.

The word must have spread about rather quickly, because there were now some ten or twelve fellows about, some I had not seen before.

"Why do they want to kill me?" asked Ina.

"My speculation," I said, "is that Ar demands accountability for the disaster in the delta. I suspect that your fellow conspirators have selected you, and perhaps some others, to be identified and repudiated, as having duped others, and so on. In this way the more powerful conspirators may satisfy Ar's call for accounting and at the same time direct attention away from themselves. On the other hand, your more powerful fellows, I suppose, would not wish to risk the results of your testimony being taken in court."

"But I am only a slave," she said.

"But one who perhaps knows too much for her own good," I said.

"I could promise not to speak!" she said.

"You would speak," I said.

She looked at me, frightened.

"As you know," I said, "the testimony of slaves is taken under torture."

"Give her to us, and we will let you go," said a fellow.

I regarded them.

"Let us take her now," said one of them, "and share the reward only among ourselves!"

"Yes!" said another.

The eager fellow, perhaps too agreeable to the suggestion of the first, rushed forward. I kicked him back, off the sword, and whirled to face the second fellow who stopped, slipped to one knee, and scrambled back. I had no time to cut at him, he helpless there, as I whirled back in time to warn a third fellow away from Ina, who was crouching behind me.

"Give her to us," said one of the fellows, "and we will share the reward with you!"

"We will give you ten pieces of gold, tarn disks of Ar," proposed another, "full weight!"

"That is more than she would bring on the block," said another.

I glanced down at Ina. Yes, I thought, that would be considerably more than she would bring on the block.

"Accept the offer," said the fellow who had proposed the ten pieces of gold.

"Stay back," I warned him.

"Octantius will be here soon," said another, looking back. "The reward will then be too much divided."

"Deal with us," said another.

"Octantius will have bowmen with him," said another. "Resistance will then be useless."

"Deal with us," repeated the former fellow.

"Stay back," I said.

"There is nothing to be gained," wept Ina "Give me to them!"

I lashed back at her with the back of my hand, and struck her to the dirt aisle. "You were not given permission to speak, slave girl," I said.

"Yes, Master!" she cried joyfully. "Forgive me, Master!"

"Come along," I said.

Ina, creeping at my side, I, moving through the aisle, looking about me, moved between the hunters, who fell back, on both sides, to let me pass. But then, as soon as I had passed them, they fell in behind me, and about me, as closely as they dared. I would move toward one or another, and that fellow would give way, but the cloud, like a pack of sleen scouting a larl, waiting for it to tire, or make a mistake, stayed with us.

"Where are you going?" asked one of them.

I did not respond to him.

I was moving in the direction in which the one fellow had looked back, when he had feared Octantius, with his men, might too soon arrive, thereby minimizing the shares in the projected reward.

"There are no tarns in camp," said one of the men. "There are no tharlarion within the wire."

I did not respond to him.

I had two plans, concerning the prospects of neither of which was I sanguine. In both of these plans I wished to encounter Octantius, in the first, by a bold ruse, if he did not have the gold with him, to convince him of the dubiousness of his receiving it, thereby hopefully at least buying time; and in the second, if he had the gold with him, perhaps to lure or shame him into personal combat, following which, if I were successful, I might be able to seize the gold and distribute it among the others, thereby hopefully disbanding them.

It was now past noon and, the animals having been for the most part fed and watered, and groomed, and the camp now open, there were several visitors, onlookers, guests, dealers, customers, and such, about. To be sure, as it was only the beginning of the business day, which would last until the 20th Ahn, the Gorean midnight, the crowds were not yet heavy. I was now making my way toward the main gate.

"There is Octantius!" said a fellow.

I stopped, and found myself then in the center of a large ring of men, some one hundred feet or so in diameter, waiting in the first concourse, near the main gate, surely at least seventy or eighty of them.

"Tal," said Octantius, rising from a chair, beneath an awning, handing his beverage to a subordinate. Such chairs, awnings, and such, as well as food and drink, are available in the camp. Conveniences, facilities, refreshments, and such, are commonly available in large camps, as they are, for example, at games, tharlarion races, and Kaissa matches.

"Tal," said I to him.

He pointed to a sack, in the hands of a fellow near him. "I had not expected the entire slave to be delivered so conveniently to me," he said. "I thought to receive only her head, to be placed in this sack."

None of the fellows in the large ring approached me. I looked about to make certain of this.

Ina sank to her knees beside me. I do not think she now found it possible to stand. On the other hand, it was appropriate for her to kneel, as she was in the presence of free men.

"Do you recall me?" he called to Ina.

"Yes," she said.

"I once took orders from her," said Octantius.

There was laughter from some of the men about.

"Where are your veils and fine robes now?" he called.

She was silent.

"You are now what you should always have been," he said, "a slave girl."

She was silent.

"Is it not true?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

I looked at her, sharply.

"Yes, Master!" she called to Octantius.

"And with pierced ears!" he called.

"Yes, Master!" she wept.

There was much laughter from the ring of men about. What a reduction in her status had taken place! What a lowly slave she had become! Besides the men of Octantius there were several others, too, who had gathered about, a small crowd, in fact.

"Will it not be amusing," called he to her, "to deliver your head to my superior, with its ears pierced."

There was laughter. She shuddered.

"Will it not?" he asked, sternly.

"Yes, Master!" she wept. There was more laughter.

"It has been reported to me that you have fought well," said Octantius to me.

I did not respond to him.

"Cut off her head," he said.

"No," I said.

"Deliver her to us and you will be spared," he said.

"No," I said.

"Very well," said he. "The choice is yours." He signaled to some fellows about him, crossbowmen. There were some ten of them. They drew their quarrels and placed them in the guide.

"Wait!" I said.

He lifted his hand, the bowmen then not leveling their weapons.

"The gold will never be paid for her!" I said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Saphronicus," I said, "is dead."

He seemed suddenly startled.

I assumed, of course, surely a reasonable assumption, and apparently a correct one, that he was the agent of Saphronicus, commander of the forces of Ar in the north. Saphronicus, presumably the major conspirator in the north, would be the fellow most likely to direct Octantius and provide the reward.

"Saphronicus is not dead," said Octantius.

"He is dead," I insisted.

"How have you heard this?" inquired Octantius, smiling.

"I have heard it," I said. I had, of course, heard nothing of the sort. I hoped, of course, if Octantius did not have the gold with him, that there would now be doubt, in the event of the death of Saphronicus, as to its eventual appearance. I hoped in this way to buy time. I did not think they would be likely to kill Ina, who was now a very lovely slave, for nothing. There are obviously much better things to do with beautiful slaves. Keep them, to serve perfectly, subject to the full rigors of the mastery.

Octantius put back his head and laughed.

"Saphronicus is dead!" I insisted, addressing this more to the other fellows about than Octantius.

The men of Octantius, a rough crew on the whole, looked at one another uneasily. Too, as I have mentioned, there were now several others about also, a small crowd, and, as a matter of fact, now more than before. As fellows came in they naturally drifted to the circumference of the circle, and about it, to see what might be occurring.

"Octantius?" asked one of his men, in the ring.

"He is lying," said Octantius.

The men looked at one another.

"It is a game, a ruse, to buy time," said Octantius. "Can you not tell?"

I saw, to my satisfaction, that the men were not completely convinced of this. News, on Gor, of course, does not travel in a uniform, reliable fashion. Too, given the distances and the modes of transportation, and occasionally the hardships and peril of travel, it does not always move quickly. Too, it can depend on things as simple as the luck of a messenger, and who speaks to whom. There were doubtless many cities on Gor which did not even know, as yet, of the fall of Ar's Station. Too, as one might expect, in such a milieu, rumors tend to be rampant. If it is often difficult even in a Ubar's court, perhaps because of the shadings and distortions of reports from subsidiary cities and towns, to ascertain exactly what happened, one may well imagine the problems encountered by the populace in general, in the markets, the baths and taverns.

"Even if Saphronicus were dead, which he is not," said Octantius, angrily, "it does not matter."

The men looked at one another.

"The gold," said Octantius, angrily, lifting a pouch, on its string, from within his tunic, "is here!"

"Aii!" cried more than one man, pleased.

I had supposed that the gold would be with Octantius, as he had told me he would bring it with him, but I did not, of course, know that. A hundred pieces of gold, for example, is a great deal of money to be carrying about, particularly standardized tarn disks. Indeed, on Gor it is a fortune. It would not have been absurd if he had had with him not the gold, but only a note, to be drawn on one of the banks, like strongholds, on Brundisium's Street of Coins. Had that been the case I would have attempted to cast doubt on the value of the note. Many of the ruffians probably could not read. Too, they were the sort of men who would be inclined to distrust financial papers, such as letters of credit, drafts, checks, and such. Certainly such things were not like a coin in their fist or a woman in their arms.

"Challenge me," I invited Octantius.

He smiled.

"If you want her," I called to him, "let us do the game of blades."

He slipped the gold, on the strung pouch, the string about his neck, back in his tunic.

"She is naught but a property," I said. "Let her disposition ride then upon the outcome of sword sport."

"I think not," he said.

"Fight!" I said.

"Why should I fight?" he asked. "She is already, for most practical purposes, mine."

"Fight!" I said.

"For what purpose?" he asked. "What would I have to gain by fighting?"

"Coward!" I said.

"You do not know that," he said, "and, even if it were true, you could not know it."

"Coward!" I said again, angrily.

"I think I am brave enough, as men go," he said. "On the other hand, it is not my idea of bravery to leap off precipices or fling oneself into the jaws of larls."

"You acknowledge your cowardice?" I said.

"Your insults," he remarked, "are more germane to my intelligence than courage, that you should think to so simplemindedly manipulate me."

"Fight!" I said.

"I gather that you have already put an end to some of my men," he said, "and among them two or three who were presumably my superior in swordsmanship."

"If you do not fight," I said, "you will lose face before your men."

"I am not their captain," he said. "I am their employer."

"What is that which depresses no scale," I asked, "but is weightier than gold?"

"I do not care for riddles," he said.

"What of honor?" I asked.

"An inconvenience," he said, "an impediment on the path to power."

"You seem to me," I said, uncertainly, "one who might once have had honor."

"I have outgrown it," he said.

"The most dangerous lies," I said, "are those which we tell ourselves."

"Once, I had honor," said he, "long ago, in a place faraway, but I sacrificed it for a woman, who then mocked it, and trod it underfoot."

"What became of her?" I asked.

"When last I saw her," he said, "she was naked and in chains, gripping a stirring paddle, slaving over a great tub of boiling water in a public laundry."

"How came she there?" I asked.

"I put her there," he said.

"Recollect your honor," I said.

"Tomorrow will be soon enough to do that," he said.

There was laughter from the men ringing me.

"Send these against me then," I said, indicating the ring with my sword, "one by one!"

The fellows looked uneasily at one another.

"Bowmen," said he, "lift your weapons."

There were now two or three hundred men about. Many more had come in through the gate. The concourse was crowded, save for the open space in which I stood, Ina crouched behind me.

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

"I wish you well, Master," she whispered.

"Take aim," said Octantius.

I was curious to know what it would be like to see the quarrels in flight toward my body. I wondered if I would be able to follow them in flight.

"Fire!" said Octantius.

I do not know if I closed my eyes inadvertently, or not. Ina had her head down.

I had a sudden, odd feeling, as if I might be denying that I was struck.

But then I saw the bowmen, ten or more of them, almost as though in a dream, turning and sprawling, sinking, stumbling, falling into the dust. I was vaguely aware of quarrels slashing into the dirt, streaking like plows in the dirt, throwing up a spume of dust like water, others darting wildly upward, some lost overhead, passing somewhere, some skittering about, turning head over heels, then some bounding twenty or more feet in the air, turning, disappearing, and I wondered if this was how one in our situation might refuse to accept reality, but then I saw more than one of the bowmen lying in the dirt, quarrels protruding from their own backs, others with blood about their necks, where their throat had been cut. Ina was looking up, in consternation. I could not find metal in my own body. Then I realized it was not there. I could smell the smells of the camp. I could see the turbulence in the crowd, the movements of robes. Octantius had his hands raised. His men were being disarmed.

"We are alive," I told Ina. "I am sure of it. We are alive!" But she had fallen into the dirt. I turned her over. She had not been hit. She had fainted.

"You have led us a merry chase," cried Marcus, angrily, looking over his shoulder. "Why did you not stay in the camp? How were we supposed to know where to find you?" He was tearing open the tunic of Octantius, and then he jerked the gold, on its strings, from Octantius' neck. "Here!" said Marcus, throwing the gold to a large fellow, his face muchly concealed in a wide-scarf, with him. "Here is your gold!"

"Marcus!" I cried.

"You should have stayed in the camp!" said Marcus, angrily.

"What have you done?" I asked.

"I hired mercenaries," said he. "I went to the Jeweled Whip last night and made the arrangements. Things would have gone quite smoothly if you had stayed where you were supposed to be."

"You had no gold to hire mercenaries," I said.

"This fellow did," said Marcus, jerking a thumb back at Octantius who was still standing there, his hands over his head. "So I used his gold."

"My friend," I said.

"We might never have found you," said he, "had we not heard rumors of a berserk lunatic running about the slave camp killing innocent folk. Naturally I assumed it must be you."

"Of course," I said.

"So we hurried over here."

"How many are there?" I asked.

"A hundred, or better," said Marcus. "And I assure you these sleen do not come cheap."

I observed Octantius and his men being tied. Also I noted that their purses were being emptied.

"We will take these fellows a few pasangs from Brundisium," said the leader of the mercenaries, "strip them and set them loose."

"My thanks," said I, and my thanks were heartfelt.

"Do not thank them," said Marcus. "They are sleen for hire. It is all in the contract."

"Do you know with whom you are dealing?" I asked Marcus.

"He is dealing with Edgar, of Tarnwald," said the leader of the mercenaries.

"Of course," I said.

"The mercenary sleen does not come cheap," said Marcus. He had a regular's disdain for his mercenary counterpart. He had not yet learned to distinguish between mercenary and mercenary. That has been the downfall of several commanders of regular troops.

"Why did you not let me know you were here?" I asked.

"We weren't here," said Marcus. "We just arrived."

I swallowed, hard.

"You should have stayed in our camp," said Marcus.

"Apparently," I said.

I went to Octantius who now had his hands tied behind his back. A rope was on his neck. He and his men were to be placed in throat coffle.

"I take it," said Octantius, "that we are now to be taken out and killed."

"You are a brave man," I said.

"It is easy to be brave when one has no hope," he said.

"I am sorry I spoke to you as I did earlier."

"Your ruse was transparent," he said. "I took no offense."

"You are not to be killed," I said. "You are to be taken away from here, and released."

He looked at me, startled.

"Tomorrow," I said, "recollect honor."

He looked at me, and then he was thrust several yards toward the gate, to be held there as more of his men were being added to the coffle.

The leader of the mercenaries hefted the bag of gold in his hand. He looked at Marcus. "You did not tell us that you did not have the gold when you hired us," he said.

"I had prospects of obtaining it," said Marcus.

"What if it had not been here?" asked the mercenary.

"Then," said Marcus, "I would have sold my life dearly."

"I see," said the mercenary.

I was pleased to see that Marcus had formulated a plan for that contingency.

"Well," said Marcus to the mercenary, "you have your gold. You may now be on your way."

"Marcus," I whispered, "please."

The mercenary then went to where Ina lay in the dirt, in the center of what had been the circle. She was still unconscious. "So this is the little traitress and slave," he said. He turned her to her belly with his foot. "Not bad," he said. He then, again with his foot, turned her to her back. "Good slave curves," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Ar," I said.

"It would be dangerous to take this slave there," he said.

"I have no intention of taking her there," I smiled.

"Has she been taught anything of the collar?" he asked.

"A little," I said.

"Such as she should learn quickly and well," he said.

"I have every confidence that she will do so," I said.

"She will, or die," he said.

"Perhaps then," I said, "my camp, in an Ahn?"

"I shall sent Mincon," he said.

"Good," I said.

"You will have to buy her if you want her," said Marcus.

"What a mercenary fellow," said the leader of the mercenaries. He then, with a laugh, tossed the bag of gold to Marcus.

Marcus caught the gold against his chest, and clung to it, astonished.

"I wish you well," said the mercenary captain to me.

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

The mercenary captain then turned to Marcus. "I wish you well, too," said he, "my young friend."

"I do not understand," said Marcus.

"That is because you are not a mercenary," said the captain.

"I do not understand," said Marcus.

"We have already received our pay," he said.

"But this is the gold," said Marcus.

"Not all pay is gold," he said.

"My thanks," I said to the mercenary.

"It is nothing," he said.

He turned to leave, but then turned back. "I heard a fellow in the crowd, a few moments ago, tell someone that you had said Saphronicus was dead."

"Yes," I said.

"How did you know that?" he asked.

"I do not know it," I said. "I made it up, hoping to delay matters."

"Interesting," he said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because," he said, "Saphronicus is dead."

"How would you know this?" I asked.

"I have an agent," he said, "in the camp of Ar at Holmesk."

"How did it happen?" I asked.

"That seems obscure," he said. "There are many reports, which conflict with one another."

He then turned and, with a swirl of his cloak, left the concourse.

"I wish you well," called Marcus, after him, puzzled.

"You are rich," I said to Marcus.

"The dark-haired slave!" he cried. "I can afford her, she at the wagon!"

He then, suddenly, turned about, and ran from the concourse. I then went and crouched beside Ina I shook her, lightly. "Am I alive?" she asked.

"It would seem so," I said.

"Where have they gone?" she asked.

"They have been taken away," I said.

"But will they return?" she asked.

"I do not think so," I said. "The gold is gone."

"But there will be more?" she said.

"I am not sure," I said. "I have heard that Saphronicus is dead."

"Truly dead?" she said.

"I think so," I said.

"Then I am safe?" she asked.

"I do not know," I said.

"What is to be done with me?" she asked.

"While you were unconscious," I said, "someone found your slave curves of interest."

"My "slave curves"!" she said, in horror, putting her knees together, and covering her breasts with her hands.

"Yes," I said, "and open your knees, and put your hands down, on your thighs."

She obeyed.

"What now is to be done with me?" she asked.

"Come with me," I said, going back into the camp.

In a bit I knelt her before a horizontal bar, about a yard above the dirt, and tied her wrists to it.

"Master?" she asked.

"You were disobedient," I said.

"Master?" she asked.

"Earlier this morning," I said, "when I warned you to stay close to me, near the fence of the sunken sales pit, you fled from my side."

"Master!" she cried.

"Yes?" said an attendant, coming up to us.

"Bring me a slave whip," I said.