Beasts of Gor (19 page)

But that had been four days ago

I gestured to the two girls with the free woman. One of them slightly lowered her veil.

“I will pay well for the use of one of these slaves,” I said to the free woman.

“They are my personal slaves,” she said.

“I will give a silver tarsk for the brief use of one, either that you might indicate,” I said.

The warriors looked at one another. The offer was quite generous. It was unlikely that either of the girls would bring so much on the block.

“No,” said the free woman, icily.

“Permit me then to buy one,” I said, “for a golden tarn.”

The men looked at one another, the draft slaves, too. Such a coin would fetch from the block a beauty fit for the gardens of a Ubar.

“Stand aside,” said the free woman.

I inclined my head. “Very well, Lady,” said I. I moved to one side.

“I deem myself to have been insulted,” she said.

“Forgive me, Lady,” said I, “but such was not my intent If I have done or said aught to convey that impression, however minutely, I extend to you now the deepest and most profound of apologies and regrets.”

I stepped back further, to permit the retinue to pass.

“I should have you beaten,” she said.

“I have greeted you in peace and friendship,” I said. I spoke quietly.

“Beat him,” she said.

I caught the arm of the captain. His face turned white. “Have you raised your arm against me?” I asked.

I released his aim, and he staggered back. Then he slung his shield on his arm, and unsheathed the blade slung at his left hip.

“What is going on!” demanded the woman.

“Be silent, foolish woman,” said the captain.

She cried out with rage. But what did she know of the codes?

I met his attack, turning it, and he fell, shield loose, at my feet. I had not chosen to kill him.

“Aiii!” cried one of the draft slaves.

“Kill him! Kill him!” cried the free woman. The slave girls screamed.

Men shouted with rage.

“Who is next?” I asked.

They looked at one another.

“Help me,” said the captain. Two of the men went to him and lifted him, bleeding, to his feet. He looked at me, held between his men.

I stood ready.

He looked at me, and grinned. “You did not kill me,” he said.

I shrugged.

“I am grateful,” he said.

I inclined my head.

“Too,” said he, “I know the skills of my men. They are not poor warriors, you understand.”

“I am sure they are not,” I said.

“I do not choose to spend them,” he said. He looked at me. “You are a tarnsman,” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“I thought it would be so,” he said. He looked at me. “I give you greetings of the caste of warriors,” he said.

“Tal,” said I.

“Tal,” said he.

“Kill him!” cried the free woman. “Kill him!”

“You have wronged this man,” said the captain. “And he has labored within the permissions of his codes.”

“I order you to kill him!” cried the free woman, pointing to me.

“Will you permit us to pass, Warrior?” asked the captain.

“I am afraid, under the circumstances,” I said, “that is no longer possible.”

He nodded. “Of course not,” he said.

“Kill him!” cried the free woman.

“We are six now who can fight,” said the captain. “It is true that we might kill him. I do not know. But never have I crossed swords with one such as he. There is a swiftness, a sorcery, a savageness in his steel which in a hundred fights to the death I have never encountered. And yet I now stand alive beside your chair to explain this to you, who are incapable of understanding it.”

“He is outnumbered,” she pointed out.

“How many will he kill?” asked the captain.

“None, of course!” she cried.

“I have crossed steel with him, Lady,” said the captain. “Do not explain to me the nature of swordplay and odds.” He looked to his men. “Do you wish to fall upon him, Lads?” he asked, smiling wryly.

“Command us, and we shall attack,” said one of the men.

I thought their discipline good.

The captain shook his head ruefully. “I have crossed steel with him, Lads,” said he. “We shall withdraw.”

“No!” screamed the free woman.

The captain turned, supported by two men.

“Cowards!” she cried.

The captain turned to face her. “I am not a coward, Lady,” said he. “But neither am I a fool.”

“Cowards!” she cried.

“Before I send men against one such as he,” said the officer, “it will be to defend a Home Stone.”

“Coward! Cowards!” she screamed.

“I have crossed steel with him,” said the captain. He then, held between his men, withdrew. More than one of them cast glances at me over their shoulder. But none, I think, wished to return to do contest.

I resheathed the blade.

“Turn about,” said the free woman to the draft slaves. She would follow the retreating warriors.

“Do not turn about,” I said to them.

They obeyed me. The sedan chair stayed as it was. “Why did you not kill them?” asked one of the draft slaves.

“You were of the warriors?” I asked.

“Yes,” said he.

“It seems not fitting you should be chained to a lady’s chair,” I said.

He grinned, and shrugged.

“Will you not permit me to withdraw, Warrior?” asked the free woman.

“These seem fine fellows,” I said. “Doubtless you have the key to these chains in your possessions.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Give it to her,” said I, indicating one of the slave girls. This was done, and, at my gesture, the girl freed the draft slaves.

They rubbed their wrists, and moved their heads, no longer in the iron circle of the collars.

The sedan chair rested still on their shoulders. They looked at me, well pleased.

“I will let you have the use of one of the girls for a silver tarsk,” said the free woman.

I looked up at her. “It is a bit late for that, my dear Lady Constance,” I said.

“I will sell one of them to you for a golden tarn,” she said.

“That seems a high price to ask for a slave girl,” I said.

She lifted up her veiled head. “You may have the use of one or both for free,” she said.

“Lady Constance is generous,” I said.

She did not lower her head to so much as glance upon me. “I give them to you,” she said.

“Lower the chair,” I said to the draft slaves. The chair was lowered.

“Free them,” I said, indicating the draft slaves.

They stood about her, looking at her. She sat nervously in the chair. “You are free,” she said. “You are free.”

They grinned, and did not move.

“You may go,” she said. “You are free.”

I nodded to them and, together, grinning and striking one another in their pleasure, they withdrew. One remained for a moment. “My thanks, Warrior,” he said.

“It is nothing,” said I, “—Warrior.”

He grinned, and turned, hurrying after the others.

The two slave girls looked at one another.

“Remove your veils,” said the free woman.

The two girls pulled away their veils. Both were pretty.

I smiled at them. They blushed, basking in my smile.

“They are yours, of course, if you wish,” said the free woman, gesturing with her head to the two girls.

One of the girls looked at me, and I nodded.

“No!” cried the free woman. One of the girls had lifted aside the first of the free woman’s veils, and the other had brushed back the first of her hoods.

“No!” cried the free woman. Then, despite her protest, the first girl drew aside the last veil which concealed her features, and the second girl brushed back the final hood, revealing her hair, which was blond. The free woman’s blue eyes looked at me, frightened. She had been face-stripped. I saw that she was beautiful.

“Stand,” I said to her.

She stood.

“I will pay you well to conduct me to safety,” she said. Her lip trembled.

“If the beauty of your body matches that of your face,” I said, “it is the collar for you.”

“It will be the collar for her, Master!” cried one of the slave girls, delightedly:

“Fina!” cried the free woman.

“Forgive me, Mistress!” said the girl.

The two girls lifted aside the free woman’s robes, until she stood displayed before me.

I walked about her. “Yes,” I said, “it is the collar for you, Lady Constance.”

“Daphne! Fina!” cried the free woman. “Protect me!”

“Do you not know enough to kneel before your master, foolish slave?” chided Fina.

Numbly the Lady Constance knelt.

“In my belongings, over there,” I said to one of the girls, she called Daphne, “there is a collar. Bring it.”

“Yes, Master,” she cried happily, running to where I had indicated, a place beside a small tree some fifty yards from the pond. I had made a temporary camp there, while awaiting the return of the tarn. I scanned the skies. It was not in sight.

“On your hands and knees, head down,” I said to the Lady Constance.

She assumed this posture, her blond hair hanging forward, downward, over her head.

I roughly collared her and she sank moaning to her stomach in the grass.

I then tied the hands of the two slave girls behind their backs and knelt them by the sedan chair. I then took what valuables and moneys there were in the chair, kept in the cabinets at its sides, and slung them, some scarfed and others placed in pouches, about the necks of the two slave girls. I was surprised. The owner of the chair had been rich indeed. There was a fortune there, and the notes for other fortunes. I would keep none of this. I had what I wanted. She lay collared in the grass.

“Stand,” I said to the two slave girls.

They stood, obediently. I pointed off, over the grass. The former slaves could be seen in the distance. “Do you see the men?” I asked. “Yes, Master,” they said. “Here in the wilderness, bound, alone, you will die,” I pointed out. “Yes, Master,” they said, frightened. “Follow the men,” I said to them. “Beg them to keep you, and the riches you bear.” “We shall, Master,” they said. “I think they will be agreeable,” I conjectured. “Yes, Master,” they said, looking down. “And that you may appear more worth keeping about, and to facilitate your pursuit of the men,” I said, “I will take the liberty of shortening your tunics.” “Yes, Master,” they said, pleased. But when I had finished my work they looked at me, frightened. They shrank back. “Hurry now,” said I, “after the men, before I rape you myself.” They laughed and turned and ran after the men. “Overtake them before dark,” I said, “for sleen may soon be prowling.” “Yes, Master,” they cried. I laughed, watching them stumble, weighted with riches, after the former draft slaves.

I returned to where the girl lay in the grass. She was on her stomach. Her hands had dug into the dirt. She sensed I stood near her. I stood a bit behind her and to her left.

“Am I a slave?” she whispered.

“Yes,” I said.

“You can do anything with me you want?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said.

Her head was to one side. There were tears on her cheek.

“What are you going to do with me, Master?” she asked.

“Whatever pleases me,” I said.

“I ordered my men to kill you,” she said. “Are you going to slay me for that?”

“Of course not,” I said. “That was the act of the Lady Constance. She no longer exists.”

“A slave girl is now in her place,” whispered the girl.

“Yes,” I said.

“It seems I have escaped easily,” she said.

“Not really,” I said. “It is only that now you are subject to new risks and penalties, those of a slave girl.”

She clutched the grass. She knew well of what I spoke.

“You may now be slain for as little as an irritable word, or for being in the least displeasing. Indeed, you may be slain upon the mere whim of a master, should it please him.”

She sobbed.

“Do you understand?” I asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said. Then she looked up at me. “Are you a kind master?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“I do not know how to be a slave,” she said.

“Men will teach you,” I said.

“I will try to learn swiftly,” she said.

“That is wise,” I said.

“My life will depend on it?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said. I grinned. Gorean men are not patient with their girls.