Magicians of Gor (72 page)

cried out in dismay.

An instant or so before I had seen the face of Appanius grow livid with rage at

the observation portal and he had seized at the wooden lever and thrown it,

dropping the net with its weights over the couch. Almost at the same time,

weeping with misery and rage, he had rushed into the front room, his staff

raised, followed by his four retainers, all seemingly sharing their employer’s

wrath and indignation, as befitted such fellows. I myself had not had an

opportunity, nor had Marcus, of utilizing the observation portals, of which

there were two, the first of which had been commanded by Appanius, and the

second by his chief retainer. I had not, accordingly, been able to see what was

going on in the front room.

Almost instantly however I, Marcus behind me, had rushed to the front room.

There clinging together, terrified, helpless, entrapped in the toils of the net,

threatened by the staffs of Appanius and his retainers, were the slave and

Lavinia.

“Treacherous, treacherous slave!” wept Appanius.

I saw the two slaves within the heavy toils of the net, the reticulated pattern

of cords close about them. He kept his arms about her. Both were naked.

“Treacherous slave!” screamed Appanius.

Marcus looked at me, and grinned. He was not surprised at this. I, on the other

hand, was. It had been my anticipation that Lavinia would have to do all this by

herself, get her clothing off (pg. 423) and cling to him, presumably by the

door, he fully clothed, and hope to convince Appanius that their presence

together was by mutual arrangement, and indicative of mutual interest and

desire. On the other hand, I found her in the center of the room, on the couch

itself, in his arms. Saving for being on a couch instead of on furs on the floor

she might have been any alcove slut in a paga tavern. The short cloak and tunic

had been hastily removed. The cloak had apparently been slipped off, and dropped

behind her, to reveal her shoulders and tunic. The position of her tunic

suggested she had dropped it, doubtless by means of the disrobing loop, about

her ankles, and then stepped from it. I suspected she had then entered his arms,

and that he had then, a little later, lifted her up and carried her to the

couch.

“You have betrayed me!” wept Appanius.

Marcus looked at me, puzzled. I shrugged. If I had been wrong about one thing,

it seemed to me only fair if Marcus might be wrong about another.

“Traitorous slave!” wept Appanius.

Lavinia’s body was a mass of contradictory colorations. Appanius but moments

before it had been red with excitement, love and yielding, and had then, in the

sudden surprise and shame of her discovery, flushed scarlet, blushing literally

from head to tow, and then, almost instantly later, in the tumult, had begun in

terror to drain of color, she suddenly realizing that she was now a discovered

slave, a vulnerable, caught girl, apprehended in a situation of great compromise

by a man such as Appanius, her former master. Once before, as I understood it,

for so little as timidly touching a certain slave she had been sent to the

fields. Now she had been discovered naked in his arms.

“How could you have done this to me?” wailed Appanius.

Lavinia’s nipples were still erected. They were very lovely.

“How could you do this to me?” begged Appanius.

The male slave did not respond to these questions.

I thought that Lavinia was exquisite, naked, collared, in the net. I had once

told her she could make a rock sizzle. Surely that was true.

“How! How!” demanded Appanius.

Lavinia was very exciting in the net. I felt like pulling her out and using her

myself.

“Surely it is not hard to understand,” said Marcus. “She is very pretty.”

I did not think that this was a judicious remark on his part, but then who am I

to judge?

(pg. 424) “Master, no, Master!” cried the male slave.

Appanius then, with a cry of rage, seizing his staff with both hands, struck

down with it, smiting the male slave on the shoulder. He then, again and again,

struck him, about the back and shoulders.

The female slave began to sob and it seemed she would try, within the net, to

put her body between that of the male slave and the lashing staff, but he turned

her forcibly, away from the staff, holding himself over her, sheltering her. I

found this of interest. Seven or eight times the slave received heavy blows from

the staff. In a moment there were long, dark welts on his body. There were the

only marks on his body. I gathered he might have been a pampered slave. Appanius

then seemed to realize that he was sheltering the girl and, angered by this, he

rushed about, to strike, too, at her, but, again, the fellow turned, in the net,

sheltering her. “No!” he said. As Appanius, crying out again with rage, again

attempted to circle about, so that he could strike the girl, the fellow became

tangled in the net and could no longer protect her. “It is my fault!” he cried.

“I am to blame!” he cried. “Do not strike her!” he begged. Appanius then, in

fury, jabbed at Lavinia, and she cried out, hurt. “No!” wept the fellow. “Do not

hurt her!” Appanius drew back the staff again to thrust at Lavinia, but then I

managed to get my hands on it, and held it back, away from the slaves. Appanius

could not wrest it from my hands. He sobbed with frustration. His retainers

neither used their staffs to punish the two slaves nor came to the assistance of

their employer. I think this might have been because of their sensing the mood

of Marcus, that he was more than ready to spill blood. Indeed, although they

would not know this, it was even his plan to leave the city this evening. “You

see,” I said to Appanius. “I was right.”

“She seduced him!” screamed Appanius.

“Nonsense,” I said, though to be sure a candid observer might have admitted that

there might be some sense to Appanius’ asservation.

“Appanius!” said the male slave.

“Do nor dare speak my name to me,” he wept, “slave!”

“Forgive me, Master!” said the slave.

I released the staff of Appanius, as the slave had dared to address the master

by the master’s name. To be sure, he might have become accustomed to doing so in

the past but that was no excuse for permitting such boldness in the future. It

was time the slave learned his condition, and was taken in hand.

Five times then the master struck the slave, and tears pressed from between the

eyelids of the punished slave.

(pg. 425) “Please, Master,” wept Lavinia, “do not let him so strike him!”

“Did you not hear?” I asked. “He used the master’s name to him. He is to be

beaten as an errant slave.”

“Mater!” she wept.

“Be silent, slave girl,” I said.

“Yes, Master,” she wept.

Twice more the staff fell on the male slave, who now shuddered in the net.

Appanius, too, interestingly, was weeping. He then raised his staff against

Lavinia.

I held the staff. “No,” I said. “Her discipline is mine.”

“I should have sent her out of the city on the first night I owned her,” he

said, “after having cut off her ears and nose.”

Lavinia shuddered in the arms of the male slave.

“She is not yours,” I said. “She is mine.”

“Seductrix!” he said to her.

She made herself as small as she could, in the net.

“If you had listened carefully,” I said, “you would have heard your slave admit

his guilt in this matter. Clearly he turned the head of my little Lavinia.”

“Look at her!” cried Appanius. “See the sleek, curvaceous little thing, naked,

in her collar! Do you truly think she is guiltless in this matter?”

“Perhaps she is a little to blame, or, at any rate, her wanton, owned slave

curves.”

“Look there,” said Appanius. “See the wine, the sweets, on the table, there,

beside the couch? Do you doubt that this has been arranged?”

“That is an interesting point,” I said.

“Slut!” said Appanius.

“Yes, Master!” she said.

“These things,” he said, “or the moneys with which they were purchased, did they

come from the resources of your master?”

“Yes, Master,” whispered Lavinia.

“See!” said Appanius.

“Yes,” I said.

“Forgive me, Master!” said Lavinia to me.

“Do you doubt her guilt now?” asked Appanius.

“No,” I said.

“It is I who am wholly guilty,” said the male slave.

“He spoke without permission,” I said. “Also, in the light of your point, he has

lied.”

Appanius then, as Lavinia wept, struck the male slave twice (pg. 426) more with

his staff for speaking without permission, and twice again, for lying.

He moaned in the net, beaten.

“Get him out of the net,” said Appanius, angrily, “and chain him.”

In a moment the male slave lay on his stomach on the furs, chained, hand and

foot. A heavy collar, too, was locked on his neck. To this was attached a chain

leash. He was then drawn from the couch and put on his knees, at the feet of his

master. Lavinia, still under the net, knelt to one side on the couch. I went to

her and extricated her from the net, dropping it to the side. She then,

frightened, wide-eyed, knelt near me.

“Master?” she asked, looking up.

“Be silent,” I said.

“My Milo, my Milo!” wept Appanius, looking down at the much-beaten slave. “The

most beautiful slave in Ar! My beloved slave! My beloved Milo!”

“He has betrayed you,” said one of the retainers.

“How could you do it?” asked Appanius. “Have I not been good to you? Have I not

been kind? Have you wanted for anything? Have I not given you everything?”

The slave kept his head down. I think he was sick, and I did not much blame him.

He had taken a fearful beating. His back and shoulders were covered with welts.

I did not think that anything had been broken. I wondered if he had ever been

beaten before. Perhaps not. I myself have doubtless been responsible for a few

of those blows, but then they had been appropriately administered. His behavior,

after all, had contained errors.

“He is an ungrateful slave,” said another of the retainers.

“Send him to the fields,” said one of the retainers.

“Sell him,” said another.

“Make him an example to others,” said the first retainer.

“We can fine you a better, Appanius,” said another.

“One even more beautiful,” said one.

“And one with appropriate dispositions,” said another.

“And he, too, if you wish, can be trained as an actor and performer,” said

another.

Marcus looked at me, puzzled. He did not really follow this conversation. I did

not react to his look.

“What shall I do with him?” asked Appanius.

“Let all your slaves learn that they are your slaves,” said one of the

retainers.

“Speak clearly,” said Appanius.

“Rid yourself of him,” whispered the fellow.

(pg. 427) “Yes,” said another.

Appanius looked down at the chained slave.

I now had some understanding of the jealousy of the retainers for the slave. The

slave had doubtless enjoyed too much power in the house, too much favor with the

master. They were eager to bring him down.

“How?” asked Appanius.

“He has been unfaithful to you,” said a retainer.

“He had made a fool of you, with a woman,” said another.

This remark seemed to have its effect with Appanius.

“If this gets out, you will be a laughing stock in Ar,” said another.

I doubted this. It is natural enough for a male slave to have an eye for female

slaves, and it is not unusual for a female slave to occasionally, say, find

herself taken advantage of by such a fellow. To be sure, it is much more

dangerous for a male slave to accost a female slave than for a free man to do

so. Unauthorized uses of female slaves are almost always by free men. They have

little, or nothing, to fear, for the girls are only slaves. The masters, if they

are concerned about such things, may put the girls in the iron belt,

particularly if they are sending them on late errands, or into disreputable

neighborhoods.

Appanius seemed to be becoming angry.

I looked at the slave. His hands were manacled closely behind his back. The

chains on his ankles would hardly permit him to walk. The chain leash dangled to

the floor, where it lay in a rough coil.

“So, Milo,” said Appanius, “you would make of me a laughing stock?”

“No, Master,” said the slave.

“One can well imagine him laughing about how he betrayed you with a woman,” said

one of the retainers.

“It will be the whip, and close chains for you, Milo!” said Appanius.

“No,” said one of the retainers. “Let him serve as an example to all such slaves

as he!”

“Yes!” said another retainer.

“Let it be the eels!” said another.

“Yes!” said the fourth.

“No!” screamed Lavinia. “No!” She leaped to her feet and ran to Milo, to kneel

beside him, holding him, weeping. She turned to Appanius. “No, no, please!” she

wept. “No! Please!”

I took her by the hair and threw her back, away from Milo, to the floor, where

she scrambled to her knees and, tears in her eyes, frantic, regarded us.

(pg. 428) Many estates, particularly country homes, have pools in which fish are