Conspirators of Gor (51 page)

“Let us return to the wagons,” said the Lady Bina.

“Three,” said the slaver. “No? Very well then, one for each!”

I was not a good judge in such matters. A girl often does not know what she will bring until she had been thrust from the block. I did know that I had never brought as much as a full silver tarsk.

I looked upon Jane and Eve. Slaves are often naked, and one thinks little of looking upon them, and, commonly, they think little of being so looked upon. Still, I had known them from my former world. Our eyes met, and they lowered their hands. I saw that they now realized they were slaves.

“The tunics must be included,” said the Lady Bina.

We were at the gate of the grounds when we heard the slaver’s exasperated cry, “Hold! Done!”

We turned about and watched him approach. He had Jane’s upper left arm in his right hand, and Eve’s upper right arm in his left hand, and was conducting them toward us. Each had her tunic thrust crosswise in her mouth.

The Lady Bina withdrew a silver tarsk from her pouch and gave it to the slaver.

“They will be reluctant to enter the Voltai,” the slaver warned the Lady Bina.

“We will keep them well chained until we are well in the Voltai,” said the Lady Bina. “Then we will unchain them and they may run off, if they wish, to be eaten by animals.”

Jane and Eve knelt before the Lady Bina, looking up at her, pathetically, and, against the tunics thrust in their mouths, whimpered.

“Of course,” said the Lady Bina. “You may clothe yourselves.”

The two slaves gratefully slipped into their tunics, drawn over their head, fastened at the left shoulder, with a disrobing loop. Their tunics, I noted, were not much more ample than mine. When one is offering a woman, of course, one wants it to be clear that she may be worth buying. To be sure, long ago, at the party, we had, all three of us, been even more scandalously clothed, for we had been camisked.

Desmond, at a nod from the Lady Bina, fastened Jane and Eve together with the bracelets which he had removed from me a bit ago, the left wrist of Jane fastened to the right wrist of Eve.

Astrinax removed his belt, briefly, and, looping it, struck Jane twice, sharply, across the back of the thighs, and then served Eve identically, and they cried out, softly, and better understood themselves slaves. Astrinax then replaced his belt, and we continued on our way.

I went beside Jane and Eve, at Eve’s side. “We are slaves,” said Eve, “slaves!” “We are all slaves,” I said. “We are afraid to enter the Voltai,” said Eve. “It will be done with us as masters please,” I said. “Yes,” said Jane, “it will be done with us as masters please.”

* * * *

Lykos was a spare fellow, dark-haired, familiar with the wicked blade, called the
gladius
, who had been hired by Astrinax in one of the camps between Ar and Venna. He was, as far as I knew, a mercenary, with a possible background in the Scarlet Caste. It was well that we had at least one such with the wagons, for the two beasts, Lord Grendel and the blind Kur, who were usually concealed, or shadowing the wagons from a distance, could scarcely accompany the Lady Bina about, for example, to the races. I did not know the caste of Astrinax, but it seemed likely, if he had caste, that he was of the minor Merchants. Master Desmond, of course, as far as I knew at the time, was of the Metal Workers. He was seldom visibly armed, but I supposed that he would have a weapon somewhere, perhaps in his pack, at least a knife, as few male Goreans are likely to be without a weapon of some kind. Slaves, of course, are seldom permitted to touch weapons. They might lose a hand for doing so, if not be cast to leech plants or sleen. This had been so ingrained upon me, in my training, that I was afraid even to look upon a weapon, beside a chair, hanging on a wall, or such.

Astrinax, I recalled, had wished to hire two or three more men. It did not seem likely, however, that he would be successful, as few fellows, even of the Scarlet Caste, cared to enter the Voltai, particularly on some obscure mission which might prove to be of some indefinite duration.

So it was our last night in Venna, before leaving for the Voltai.

Astrinax would make one last try, it seemed, in one of Venna’s larger, more popular paga taverns, The Kneeling Slave. He would be accompanied by Desmond and Lykos. The Lady Bina would remain near the wagons, in the camp’s “palace of free women,” a small, closely guarded area, scarcely a palace, more a small house, supplied with certain amenities, cakes, ka-la-na, and such. It was also within earshot of our wagons, within one of which was Lord Grendel. The Lady Bina enjoyed the company of free women, which she found instructive, and, in its way, profitable. I well recalled Lady Delia, the companion of the pottery merchant, Epicrates. As a slave, I trusted that the Lady Bina, who was an apt pupil in many things, would not learn too much about the character and behavior of Gorean free women, or, at least, would not strive to adopt or emulate it. In the house of Tenalion, I had heard certain slaves, being readied for their sale, beseeching Priest-Kings that they not fall into the clutches of a free woman. I had gathered, more than once, that I was fortunate to be owned by the Lady Bina, who, while often demanding, petty, and vain, entertained toward me, as far as I knew, not the least animus or hostility. This was quite different from being the slave of a typical Gorean free woman, particularly if one should be attractive. Such slaves, it seems, can seldom please, and they are often scolded, humiliated, and beaten. If they so much as look at a man they may be tied and lashed.

So I had learned, earlier in the day, that Astrinax would visit one of Venna’s more patronized taverns, The Kneeling Slave, to search again for two or three fellows to join our small caravan. He would be accompanied by Lykos, whose opinion, because of his blade skills, it seems, would be relevant and perhaps important. Indeed, from what I had heard of the Voltai, I gathered that blade skills might be as important as wagon skills. Too, I learned that Master Desmond would accompany them. “I need a goblet of paga,” he had told me. “And what of me, Master?” I had inquired. “Am I to be put on the common chain at the camp, or am I to be fastened to the slave post, nearer the wagons, with Jane and Eve, or am I to be merely left in the slave wagon, shackled to the central bar, or what?” “Have you ever been in a paga tavern?” he asked. “Certainly not,” I said. “Would you like to see one?” he asked. “If I were to exhibit enthusiasm,” I said, “would you then be certain to shackle me in the wagon?” “And tie shut the canvas?” he asked. “Yes,” I said. “Not necessarily,” he said. “Then,” I said, “Master, I would very much like to go.” “Do you think you can take it?” he asked. “I would suppose so,” I said. “I would think so, too,” he said, “as The Kneeling Slave, as I understand it, is a large, clean, expensive, well-appointed, superior sort of establishment, one catering to an elegant, elite sort of clientele. The girls may be belled, but they are not even chained, and they are clothed.” “I see,” I said. “It is not like the dingy holes in which one such as you might serve as a paga girl, nude and chained.” “Oh?” I said. “I understand it that one may even stand upright in some of the better alcoves,” he said. “I see,” I said. “I will take you along,” he said, “that you may see some truly beautiful slaves.” “And at what time,” I asked, “will Master call for the girl.” “You will be unshackled after supper,” he said. “Will Lady Bina accompany us?” I asked. “Certainly not,” he said. “Free women are not permitted in paga taverns.” “Oh?” I said. “Rejoice,” he said, “it is one place kajirae need not fear free women.” “I do not fear free women,” I said. “That is because you have never been owned by one,” he said, “that is, a typical free woman.” “I see,” I said. “It is dangerous for a free woman to enter such a place,” he said. “They may be marked by slavers. It is commonly supposed that a free woman who enters such a place courts the collar, and wants her bare feet in the yellow-dampened sawdust of the slave block. Sometimes a free woman, as an adventure, will disguise herself as a slave, even to the collar, and enter such an establishment.” “How bold they are,” I said. “And sometimes,” he said, “they end up in a different collar, one to which they have no key.” “I understand,” I said. “It is easy,” he said, “to transport a woman from a city, nude, bound, gagged, in a slave sack.” “Doubtless,” I said.

* * * *

It was after dark when I approached the slave post.

“Who is there?” whispered Jane.

“It is I, Allison,” I whispered. “I have brought you something to eat.”

I could not well see the slaves, but, when they moved, I could hear the linkages which secured them to the post. Each was on a chain which led to a collar. Further, the left ankle of each was chained to the post, as well. Accordingly, they were twice secured. Beyond that, each was ankle shackled and wrist shackled. The Lady Bina, it seemed, had taken the warning of the slaver seriously.

“We have taken our gruel, face down, from the pans,” said Eve, bitterly.

“I have brought you some tiny honey cakes,” I whispered, “from the food cart of the masters.”

“You will be beaten,” said Jane.

“No,” I said. “It is with the permission of the Lady Bina.”

“The Mistress?” said Jane.

How easily, I thought, that word now comes to us!

“Yes,” I said. “Do not be concerned. They were left over. No one wanted them.”

“Garbage,” said Jane.

“I suppose so,” I said, “in a way.”

“Then when crumbs are found on our mouth, we will be whipped!” said Jane.

“I will take them away,” I said.

“No!” said Jane. “Please, no!”

“We have not had a sweet in weeks,” said Eve.

“Perhaps you remember how, on Earth,” I said, “we might indulge ourselves as we pleased.”

Small hands, shackled, reached toward me. “Please, Allison,” said Jane. “Please, please, Allison,” begged Eve.

I had brought four of the small honey cakes, and I gave two to each of the slaves.

They thrust them into their mouths, with soft cries of gratitude, and pleasure.

“Thank you, oh, thank you!” they breathed.

Simple things, a sweet, a kind word, a comb, a scrap of cloth, can mean much to a slave.

Then they shrank back, with a rustle of chain, frightened, for the light of a lantern had fallen upon us.

“What is going on here?” asked a voice, that of a camp guard, on his rounds.

“I am bringing food to the slaves, Master,” I said.

He held the lantern high, regarding us.

“Food is included in the post fee,” he said.

“This is extra, Master,” I said. “Tomorrow they are to be taken into the Voltai.”

“And what is in the Voltai, for pretty slaves?” he said.

“I do not know, Master,” I said.

Eve and Jane knelt by the post to which they were fastened, their heads down. I, too, remained kneeling, as I had been, as I was in the presence of a free man, though I lifted my head to the lantern. I could not well see the guard’s face.

He did not lower the lantern.

“Get your heads up,” said the guard to the chained slaves.

Instantly they complied.

At the post slaves are chained nude. A nude slave is quickly noticed. It is another way in which escape is made more difficult.

I remembered Eve and Jane from Earth, from the college, from the house. Here they were Gorean slave girls, naked, chained to a post.

“The Voltai,” said the guard. “Too bad.”

He then left.

“Tomorrow,” I said to the slaves, “you will receive new tunics, and collars. We are to be identically tunicked and collared.”

“You are well exhibited,” said Jane.

“As will be you,” I said.

“Mrs. Rawlinson arranged things well, did she not?” said Jane, shaking her chains.

“Yes,” I said.

“Do not let us be taken into the Voltai,” begged Eve.

“As I understand it,” I said, “we are to be back-braceleted and chained by the neck to the back of a wagon. At night, we will probably be shackled to the central bar, in a slave wagon. After a day or two, you will be released, to accompany the wagons.”

“We might then run,” said Eve.

“To be taken by bandits, or eaten alive by beasts,” said Jane.

“Stay near the wagons,” I said.

“There is no escape for us,” moaned Jane.

“No,” I said, “we are kajirae.”

I then prepared to withdraw.

“Thank you for the cakes,” said Jane.

“Yes,” said Eve, “so much!”

“You might remember,” I said, “that at the party we had been refused permission to feed, and had been denied lunch that day.”

“We were so hungry,” said Eve.

“Nora cast you some scraps to the floor,” said Eve, “on which you must feed, as a slave.”

“Yes,” I said.

“And she placed a pan of water on the floor from which you, head down, not using your hands, on all fours, were to drink, as a she-beast,” said Jane.

“I recall,” I said.

“Which water she spilled,” said Eve, “for which you were punished.”

I shuddered, and put my arms about me. How I had been punished, so mercilessly, so richly, switched! I had then, groveling and weeping under the blows, sensed that I was a slave, and should be a slave. I still feared Nora, terribly. I still thought of her as Mistress and myself as slave.