Conspirators of Gor (55 page)

“She is pretty,” said Trachinos. This pleased me. I received few compliments. To be sure, I knew I was attractive. Otherwise a collar would not have been put on my neck.

Still I had no desire to lick and kiss the whip of Trachinos, though I would do it fearfully, and well, if it were pressed to my lips.

“Can you handle a wagon?” asked Astrinax.

“But she does not have much hair,” said Trachinos.

“There are two others chained to a slave post, in our wagon camp,” said Astrinax.

“I know,” said Trachinos.

“You have looked upon them?” said Astrinax.

“Yes,” said Trachinos. “They are pretty.”

“You seem to know something of us,” said Lykos.

“I am told you are going into the Voltai,” said Trachinos.

“Yes,” said Astrinax.

“That is why you have few fee takers,” said Trachinos.

“We will pay well,” said Astrinax.

“For what purpose are you entering the Voltai?” asked Trachinos.

“That has not been disclosed to us,” said Astrinax.

“Does it matter, if you are well paid?” asked Lykos.

“No,” said Trachinos.

“It seems you have brought a sword to the table,” said Lykos.

“You are going into the Voltai,” grinned Trachinos.

“We need drivers,” said Astrinax.

“I can drive, and so, too,” said Trachinos, “can my fellow, Akesinos.” He indicated a fellow standing in the shadows, just within the large double doors of the tavern.

“Forty copper tarsks each week,” said Astrinax.

“That is good fee, indeed,” said Trachinos.

“Perhaps you think us rich?” said Lykos.

“A lowly driver does not inquire into such things,” said Trachinos.

“You are aware there are dangers in the Voltai?” said Lykos.

“I do not fear them,” said Trachinos.

“He is our man!” said Astrinax.

Lykos rose to his feet, and thrust his robe back, behind his shoulder. He indicated the blade, flat, on the table. “You can use that?” he asked.

“Let us make trial of the matter,” said Trachinos.

“That is not necessary,” said Astrinax.

“Here is the last lamp,” said the tavern’s man. “The tavern is closing.”

Trachinos, not taking his eyes from Lykos, bent down and retrieved his blade. It seemed almost small in his grasp. He was a very large man.

“Is blood to be shed?” inquired Trachinos.

“Certainly not!” said Astrinax.

“If you wish,” said Lykos.

“Surely outside, outside, noble Masters,” said the tavern’s man.

“Do not extinguish the lamp,” said he in whose charge I was, he who had silenced me.

“Please, Masters!” protested the tavern’s man.

“Who shall move first?” asked Trachinos.

“I,” said Lykos.

I backed away, on my knees.

I could not follow the movement of the blades, so sudden, so swift they were, but, a moment later, I realized they had crossed six times, from the sound.

“Well?” grinned Trachinos.

“Hire him,” said Lykos.

“I vouch for my fellow, Akesinos,” said Trachinos. “He has killed four men.”

Lykos sheathed his blade, and nodded.

“We leave tomorrow, at dawn,” said Astrinax.

“Whose caravan is it?” asked Trachinos. “Who is in charge, who stands the fee?”

“You will report to this man, Astrinax,” said Lykos.

“Very well,” said Trachinos.

I had now regained my composure, after my withdrawal from the vicinity of the blade engagement, and was now kneeling beside the table.

I sensed I knelt within the regard of the stranger.

I did not look at him.

Then I felt his boot put against my upper right arm, and I was thrust to my side on the floor. “And what of this little vulo?” asked Trachinos. “Is she with the wagons?”

He had not hurt me, nor had he intended to. His action had been no more than a way of calling attention to me, as a slave might be indicated.

None of the men at the table objected.

I, of course, was well reminded, first, of my bondage, and, secondly, of the power of men, who might do with us, with women, if they pleased, what they pleased.

“Yes,” said Astrinax.

“Then her Mistress, as well?” asked Trachinos.

“Yes,” said Astrinax. “The Lady Bina.”

“And she is a she-tarsk, is she not?” asked Trachinos.

“Not at all,” said Astrinax. “She is thought to be marvelously, extraordinarily beautiful.”

The Lady Bina, perhaps in her vanity, or perhaps because she was not natively Gorean, was often careless in her veiling. I recalled that from as long ago as the Tarsk Market. Too, like many beautiful free women, I suspect she enjoyed seeing her effect on men. Certainly I, on my former world, before I was collared, had very much enjoyed that sort of thing, a form of amusing play, exciting boys and men and leading them on, and then, when well reassured of my attractiveness, pretending to dismay or annoyance, putting them from me, dismissing them. Then, of course, I was not in a slave collar. It is my suspicion that the free women of my former world and those of Gor, forgive me, Mistresses, are much the same. Do you not enjoy such games? And are you not, as much as we, prepared upon occasion to put your beauty to use, to barter it for position and wealth? For example, it is my supposition that, in the markets, and on the boulevards, and elsewhere, handsome slavers, perhaps disguised in the robes of rich Merchants, do not encounter with you in fact the difficulties which one might expect them to encounter in theory. Forgive me, Mistresses.

“Excellent,” said Trachinos.

He then, with his fellow, left the tavern. We followed them shortly, and the lamp was extinguished behind us, and the large double doors were closed and barred.

“I feel safer now,” said Astrinax.

“Do you?” asked Lykos.

“It would be better, of course,” said Astrinax, “if we could have had two or three more.”

“I do not trust Trachinos,” said Lykos.

“To be perfectly frank, my dear Lykos,” said Astrinax, “I do not trust you, either.”

“Oh?” smiled Lykos.

“No,” said Astrinax. “What do I know of you?”

“Probably little more than I of you,” said Lykos.

“It is hard to get men to go into the Voltai,” said Astrinax.

“It is perhaps the season,” said Lykos.

“No,” said Astrinax, “it is the Voltai.”

* * * *

We had left Venna four days ago.

With the wagons were three slaves, Jane, Eve, and Allison, the latter not permitted to speak, not even to request permission to speak. One free woman was with the wagons, the Lady Bina. There were five free men with the wagons, Astrinax, who was much as our caravan master; Desmond, thought to be a Metal Worker, in whose care I was; Lykos, whom I supposed a mercenary; fierce, bearded Trachinos, clearly skilled with the gladius, at whose background I could scarcely guess; and his fellow, thin, reticent Akesinos, who spoke little, but watched much. And somewhere there were perhaps two beasts, though, as far as I could tell, they were not now with the wagons.

It was now near the Tenth Ahn.

The wagons were stopped.

“It is the six hundredth pasang stone,” said Astrinax, indicating a marker, across the road from one of the arched pylons supporting the aqueduct. “It is here we must wait, for a guide.” I had been interested to learn that pasang stones are found on many Gorean roads; commonly they contain a number, and an indication of a direction and destination. For example, on the Vennan road, as it is called in Ar, a stone is erected midway between Ar and Venna, lists a number, and points in two directions. Closer to Ar, the number lists the pasangs to Ar, with an indication of the direction of Ar. Closer to Venna, the number lists the pasangs to Venna, with an indication of the direction of Venna. To be sure, there are many varieties of pasang stones, and some list only the distance to a given point, as though the road had but one destination. Many roads, particularly small ones, lack pasang stones altogether. Either they are too short or too unimportant, or, perhaps, it is supposed the stones are unnecessary, given the supposed familiarity of the terrain to any who might be in the vicinity. Here, beside the Vennan aqueduct, the stones contained only a number, and no further indications. This was because here the pasang stones measured the length of the aqueduct from Ar, and the pasang stones were largely a convenience to the caste of Builders, concerned with the care of the aqueduct.

I did not know how Astrinax knew we were to stop here, or that a guide would appear.

I did know he commonly held the late watch when we camped.

Having shared the domicile of the Lady Bina and Lord Grendel in Ar, I probably had a better sense of the purport of this journey than the free men with the party. Surely it had to do with returning the blind Kur to his fellows. Whether it had a purpose beyond that I did not know. I did know that there had occasionally been conversations between the Lady Bina and the blind Kur, through the intermediation of the translator, when Lord Grendel had been absent. At such times I would be dispatched on one errand or another. The Lady Bina, as I indicated earlier, had a great respect for, and admiration of, what she regarded as true Kurii, in which category she placed the blind Kur, and from which category she excluded Lord Grendel. This went back, apparently, to a remote, metal world. Accordingly she endorsed the scheme of Lord Grendel’s assisting the blind Kur to regain his haunts in the mountains. On the other hand, she, herself, was reluctant to exchange the delights and comforts of Ar for the hardships of some distant, possibly hazardous journey far from civilization. She had little sense of the risks to which she might be exposed as a defenseless woman in Ar, a barbarian lacking a Home Stone. Lord Grendel, however, had informed her, despite his usual complaisance, that she would accompany him, if necessary, in chains. “I see,” she had said, annoyed. I was intrigued by the thought of the Lady Bina in chains. I sometimes thought she did not understand the extent to which she was actually in the power of Lord Grendel. If she felt his chains on her pretty limbs it would doubtless be clearer to her. I thought she would look lovely in chains. But then does not any woman? In any event, she later withdrew her objections to the journey, and, indeed, soon seemed eager to be on her way. This change in disposition followed, I think, the aforementioned conversations with her large, savage house guest, the blind Kur. She it was who contacted Astrinax, possibly through the eating house of Menon, with which establishment she was familiar, and engaged him to assist in the venture, buying tharlarion and wagons, putting in supplies, and such.

Lykos was standing on the wagon bench of the first wagon, with a Builder’s glass, scanning the horizon.

“What do you see?” asked Astrinax.

“Nothing,” said Lykos, closing the glass.

“How long must we wait here?” asked Desmond.

“I do not know,” said Astrinax.

“But you do know we must wait?” said Desmond.

“Yes,” said Astrinax.

Jane, Eve, and I, the wagons halted, had come forward.

When Master Desmond turned about, I knelt near him, that I might be before him. This required courage, more courage each day. I shook with fear. I knew that I had been found displeasing. I did not wish to be intrusive, and be punished. Too, I had the natural temerity of the slave before the free person. If a slave lacks this temerity, it is something she soon learns. A slave may desire her master, long for him, want more than anything to surrender herself wholly and unquestioningly to him, ache for him with all the flames of love, yearn to submit herself to him as no more than a negligible, meaningless, helpless, loving beast, be willing to die for him, but, too, she may well fear him, for the whip is his, and he is master.

But I was desperate.

Please, oh, Master, I thought, be kind. See Allison! She is here, before you. See her!

I looked up at him.

I could hardly catch my breath before him. Had I been able to speak, I would scarcely have been able to form words. Surely I would have stammered. I fear my lip trembled.

How different he was from the men of Earth!

How helpless, and slave, I was, on my knees before him.

I wanted him to pay me attention. I wanted him to find me acceptable once more, as he had before, as the animal I was, a slave, but perhaps one of some interest. Please, oh, Master, I thought, let me speak, let me speak! I have so much I want to say, so much I want to tell you, so much for which to beg forgiveness! Yes, I so wanted to be permitted to speak, and yet, now, some days since my sentencing, I feared even to beg mutely for the restoration of that coveted privilege, lest even that might displease him. It would be done, the sentence’s rescinding, if at all, at his wish, not mine. But as much as I wished to be allowed to speak, and as much as that deprivation cost me in helplessness and misery, what hurt me most was his neglect, his ignoring of me. I think I would have rejoiced had I been cuffed or kicked, or tied to a ring and beaten, for then, at least, I would have known myself as a reality, however negligible and contemptible, in his world. Even a girl in a collar wants to be seen, to be recognized, and noticed, even be it to no greater extent than being mocked, humiliated, and scorned.