Captive of Gor (15 page)

no one could see, walking in the fields, though I were slave, hold my hand. I

had seen a master and his girl kissing in a doorway in Laura. I had seen her

eyes. How I had envied her! She loved him. I hoped, for her sake, that he would

not sell her. It is strange. Not until I had become a slave girl, and understood

that men might own me, did I become so devastatingly, thrillingly, aware of

them, the rude beauty and strength of their bodies, and their power.

Interestingly, for the first time in my life, I found that I was not displeased

to be a woman. I was pleased, rather, indeed, thrilled, that they were men. It

is joyous to be a woman on Gor, even though slave, with such men. I would not

have exchanged my sex, though I was only a girl in bondage, for the throne of

Ar.

That afternoon, Targo called me aside. “Slave,” he called. I, frightened, not

knowing what I might have done, ran to him and knelt at his feet, head down. I

trembled.

“Lift your head,” he said.

I did so.

“When the display chain is put forth again,” he said, “you are Eleven Girl.”

(pg. 100) I could not believe my ears. “Thank you, Master,” I whispered.

There were sixteen girls in the chain now, for Targo had sold four before coming

to Laura. The hundred village girls were not included in the display chain. They

were to be sold in Ar.

“You are high on the chain now,” said Targo.

I put my head down.

“You are almost beautiful,” he said.

When I lifted my head he had gone.

I was much pleased.

I ran to the barred gate of the compound and the guard unlocked it, and I went

inside, and then he closed the gate, relocking it.

He did not make me remove my camisk before entering. We were now permitted to

wear our camisks in the compound. Even the village girls, yesterday, under the

eyes of guards, had cut and sewn camisks for themselves. They wore them happily.

It was the first clothing they had been permitted since they had been taken by

the marauders of Haakon of Skjern. I do not know why, for certain, we were

permitted clothing in the compound. It may have been, of course, because the

weather had now cleared and the compound was no longer muddy, but I do not

really think so. I think it was rather because Targo was, simply, rather pleased

with the lot of us. His older girls, among whom I numbered myself, were

excellent goods. His new girl, the Lady Rena of Lydius, would net him fifty-five

gold pieces if she could be delivered in Ar to her captain from Tyros. And his

hundred village girls, bought for only two gold pieces a girl, could well stand

to make him rich, if they could be brought to Ar before the Love Feast. Targo

was in a good mood. That is why, I think, Targo permitted us clothing in the

compound.

I ran to tell Ute and Inge that I was now Eleven Girl. We hugged and kissed one

another.

Lana was high girl, of course, Sixteen. Inge was second, even though she had

been of high caste, Fifteen. Ute was Fourteen.

(pg. 101) It was not only prestigious to be high on the chain, but, of course,

then one’s price is commonly higher as well, and, accordingly, one’s master is

somewhat more likely to be well fixed.

I strutted before Ute and Inge, in the rough camisk. “I do not object,” I told

them, loftily, “if my master chooses to dress me in silk.”

We laughed.

“Let us hope,” said Inge, “you are not purchased by the mast of a paga tavern.”

I looked at her, irritably.

“They can often afford fine girls,” said Inge, “paying more than many private

masters can.”

I swallowed.

“Of all the slave girls sold, however,” observed Inge, “very few are purchased

for taverns.”

I looked at her gratefully.

“Perhaps you will be purchased for a serving slave or a tower slave,” said Inge.

I stretched luxuriously in the camisk. “No,” I said, lazily, “I think I will be

purchased for a pleasure slave.”

Ute clapped her hands with pleasure.

“But you are untrained,” pointed out Inge.

“I can learn,” I informed her.

“All of us, I have heard,” said Ute, “will receive training in the pens of

Ko-ro-ba.”

I had heard this, too.

“I will doubtless train superbly,” I told them.

“How different you are,” exclaimed Ute, “since you have come to us!”

“Do you think, El-in-or,” asked Inge, “that I, though of the Scribes, might give

pleasure to a man?”

“Take off your camisk,” I told her, “and I will assess you.”

She laughed.

“What of me?” howled Ute.

We laughed at her. Neither of us had the least doubt that Ute would be a

treasure for any man.

“You will be superb,” I told her.

(pg. 102) “Yes,” said Inge, warmly, “superb!”

“But what,” wailed Ute, “if we are all purchased by the same master?”

I leaned forward, menacingly toward them. “I will scratch your eyes out!” I

cried.

We all laughed and hugged and kissed again.

Later that afternoon there was an entertainment at the compound. A mountebank,

with pointed hat, with a tuft on it, in silly robes, with his painted clown’s

face, leading a strange animal, arrived at the compound. For a copper tarn disk

he would give a performance at the compound. We all begged Targo, even the

village girls, that he be permitted to do so. Targo consented, to our delight,

and the small mountebank with the strange animal cleared a small space near the

bars on the far side of the compound, away from the bars forming the common wall

with the compound of Haakon of Skjern. We, and the hundred village girls,

delighted, pressed against the bars to watch. Vaguely, the small mountebank, in

his swirling, silly robes, with his painted face, seemed somehow familiar, but I

knew he could not be. How absurd that would be! He danced and turned

somersaults, and sang silly songs, before the bars. He was a small, thin man,

agile. He had quick eyes, and hands. And he told funny stories and jokes. He

also performed magic tricks, with silks and scarves, and juggled colored hoops

he wore at his belt. Then he would reach through the bars and pretend to find

coins in the hair of the girls. From my hair, to my delight, he seemed to draw

forth a silver tarsk. The girls cried out in envy. It was the most expensive

coin he found. I blushed with pleasure. Lana was not much pleased. I laughed. We

laughed and clapped our hands with pleasure. During this time his beast slept,

or seemed to sleep, behind him, curled on the grass, a guard holding its chain.

Then the mountebank, with a bow, turned to the animal and, taking its chain from

the guard, spoke to it, abruptly and authoritatively. “Awaken, Sleepy One!” he

said. “Stand straight!”

(pg. 103) The beast frightened us. We were pleased it was so tame, so much under

the control of its master.

Slowly the beast lifted itself to its hind legs, and lifted its paws and opened

its mouth.

Several of the girls screamed. I, too, shrank back from the bars.

It was an incredibly hideous, large-eyed, furred thing. It has wide, pointed

ears. It stood perhaps eight or nine feet high. It may have weighed seven or

eight hundred pounds. It had a wide, two-nostriled, leathery snout. Its mouth

was huge, large enough to take a man’s head into it, and it was rimmed with two

rows of stout fangs. There were four larger fangs, long and curved, for

grasping, in the position of the canines. The upper two fangs protruded at the

side of the jaws when its mouth was closed. It had a long, dark tongue. Its

forelegs were larger than its hindlegs. I had seen it move, shambling on its

hind legs, and on the knuckles of its forelegs, but now I saw that what I had

taken for forelegs were not unlike arms and hands. Indeed, they had six digits,

several jointed, almost like tentacles, which terminated in clawlike growths,

which had been blunted and filed. It also had claws on its hindlegs, or feet,

which were retractable, as the mountebank demonstrated, issuing sharp voice

commands to the beast. The hindlegs, or feet, like the forelegs, or hands, if

one may so speak, were also six-digited and multiply jointed. They were large

and spreading. The claws, as I saw when they were exposed, upon the order of the

mountebank, were better than four inches long, curved and sharp. I could not

even determine in my mind whether to think of it as a four footed animal, with

unusual prehensile forelegs, or as something manlike, with two legs and two

arms, with hands. It was tailless.

Perhaps most horrifying were the eyes. They were large and black-pupiled. For an

instant I thought they rested upon me, and saw me, but not as an animal sees,

but as something might see that is not an animal. Then, again, they were simple

and vacant, those of a mountebank’s performing beast.

(pg. 104) I dismissed the sensation of uneasiness from my mind.

With the other girls I applauded, striking my left shoulder in Gorean fashion,

as the mountebank put his beast through its paces.

Now it was sitting comically on its rump with its paws fluttering in the air.

Now it was rolling over and over. Then it was whining, begging piteously.

Frequently, from a large pocket in his robes, the mountebank would throw the

animal a tiny piece of bosk meat, when it had performed well. Sometimes he would

scold it, and withhold the meat. Then the animal would put down its head, and

turn it to the side, like a reprimanded child. And then the mountebank would

give it its piece of meat. The guards enjoyed the performance as well as the

girls. I saw that even Targo laughed, holding his belly in his blue-and-yellow

slaver’s robes. Sometimes the mountebank would give pieces of meat to the girls

to throw to the beast. Lana begged hardest and was given the most pieces of

meat. She threw me a look of triumph. I threw only one piece of meat to the

animal and that quickly. The beast frightened me. Lana did not seem afraid at

all. The piece of meat disappeared into that vast, fanged orifice and the large,

round eyes blinked sleepily, contentedly. The girls laughed. And I saw the eyes

look at me once again. I put my hand before my mouth, terrified. But then I saw

that they were again vacant and stupid, those of a beast. Soon, once again,

telling myself how silly I had been, I was laughing again with the other girls.

At the conclusion of the mountebank’s performance he gave a great, deep bow,

bending at the waist and doffing his hat in a great, sweeping arc. We might even

have been free women! How pleased we were! We leaped up and down, we clapped our

hands with pleasure, we struck our left shoulders, we cried out, we thrust our

hands through the bars to him, and, to our delight, through we were slave, he

came to the bars and kissed and touched our hands. Then he stood back and waved

at us.

Then, to our sorrow, his performance was over.

He stepped back.

(pg. 105) There was a silence.

The beast then rose to its hind legs, sleepily, and regarded us. Then, suddenly,

it gave a hideously terrifying roar and sprang toward the bars, its great clawed

appendages grasping towards us, its huge, fanged hole of a mouth wild with its

white traps of teeth, howling and hissing. It struck the bars, reaching through

them, its teeth grating on them, its chain striking against the iron, its claws

scraping towards us. We stumbled back, terrified and screaming, trying to flee,

but impeding one another. I found myself thrown from my feet and helpless,

tangled and pressed in upon by the bodies of my sisters in bondage. And as I

could not free myself so could not those whom I and others pressed in upon. I

screamed and screamed. Then we became aware that the guards, and Targo, were

laughing. They had been warned. It had been part of the performance, but

scarcely one to our liking. How comical we must have seemed in our rout, our

terror. How comical to the guards and Targo, and the mountebank, must have

seemed that undignified pile, that squirming, panic-stricken heap, that

helpless, terrified, screaming tangle of slave girls. The monster was now

sitting quietly beside the mountebank, licking its jaws, half-asleep, its eyes

empty and vacant, blinking. The guards were still laughing, and Targo was still

smiling. Body by body, the tangle of slave femininity unraveled itself. I think

we were all humiliated and embarrassed, so fooled we had been, so miserable and

precipitate had been our flight. But, too, we were still frightened. Some of us

stood near the tiny door to the heavy log dormitory, ready to run within. Others

had fled to the opposite wall of bars. Most of us stood near the bars, but back

some feet from them. I angrily, but still frightened, smoothed down my camisk,

as though it had been a dress. I looked at the men laughing. How clever they

thought they were! They were beasts, all of them! I suppose they were big, brave

men, with their spears and swords, and if the beast charged at them, they would

just stand there and kill it, while we, only women, fled like screaming

children. I looked at the men. I hated them. They thought they were so (pg. 106)

clever, so brave, so great, so different from us! But then I blushed red, every