Kajira of Gor (52 page)

next to my body.

I was embarrassed to see them. Now that I was a slave, of course, I would have

been grateful to have even so much to wear publicly. But when I had worn them

they had been the garments of a free woman. Thus, when I saw them now it was as

one who had once been a free woman that I was embarrassed. Few free women care

to have their intimate garments exhibited publicly before men.

I then saw the sleen, a different sleen, thrust its snout deeply into the pile

of garments. I could hear it snuffling about in them. I saw the keeper, too,

take the intimate garments, wadded in his hand, and thrust them beneath the

animal’s snout. He then held one of the longer, sliplike garments open from the

bottom, and, to my horror, I saw the beast, sniffing and growling, thrust its

snout deeply into the garment. My scent, from my intimacies, would doubtless be

strongest in such a place.

I shrank back, even further. The hands of the soldier be-hind me, on my arms,

forbade me further retreat.

In a moment the sleen leaped forward. I closed my eyes and screamed. ‘I felt the

hot breath of the animal on my breasts. I seemed surrounded by its snarling. I

heard the scratching and slipping of its claws on the tiles, the rattle and

tightening, and rattle and tightening, again, of the links of the chain leash,

in its lunges toward me. I sensed its force, its terribleness, its eagerness. I

heard the snapping of its jaws. Could the keeper judge the distances unerringly?

Could he hold the animal?

What if the chain broke? I opened my eyes. In that instant the beast was again

lunging toward me. In that instant, in a flash, I saw the cavernous maw, the

fangs, the long, dark tongue, the blazing eyes, the intentness, the

single-mindedness, the power, the eagerness of the beast. I threw back my head

and screamed miserably. “Pity!” I begged. “I beg mercy, my masters!” I cried, a

terrified slave, addressing them all, in my terror, as though they might be my

legal masters.

Then the sleen, with a word, was withdrawn, and thrown meat. I trembled. Were it

not for the hands of the soldier behind me, on my arms, I might have collapsed.

I saw Drusus Rencius looking at me with scorn. I did not care. I was not a

warrior. I was a girl, and a slave.

“Thus, you see,” said Ligurious, “who was the true Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

“Each woman, it would seem,” said Claudius, “has been identified as such, one in

virtue of the articles of Hassan and one in virtue of the articles with which

you have furnished us.”

“Examine the seals,” said Ligurious, triumphantly. “See which bears the true

seal of Corcyrus!”

The broken seals were brought to Claudius. He put them on the table before him.

Members of the high council crowded about him.

“The seal broken from the package of Ligurious,” he said, “is the seal of

Corcyrus.”

“That cannot be,” said Hassan.

“Perhaps you will be given two Ahn in which to leave Argentum,” said Ligurious.

“I have the letter from Menicius!” said Hassan.

“It, too, doubtless, will bear the same seal as was on the package,” said

Ligurious.

“Yes,” said Hassan.

“I, too, have such a letter, but a genuine one,” said Ligurious, “describing and

authenticating the garments I have produced for you. That letter bears the

signature of Menicius and is marked with the true seal of Corcyrus.” He reached

within his robes and produced a letter, wrapped with a ribbon, the ribbon and

the flaps of the letter secured with a melted disk of wax, this wax bearing the

imprint of a seal.

The seal was examined.

“It is the seal of. Corcyrus,” said Claudius.

The letter was opened and examined.

“The descriptions tally with the garments brought to us by Ligurious,” said one

of the members of the high council.

“Who has signed the letter?” inquired Ligurious.

“Menicius,” said one of the members of the high council, looking up.

“I think not,” said a voice.

All eyes turned to the back of the room. There, the guest who had been hooded

rose to his feet.

“Who would dare to gainsay me in this?” inquired Ligurious.

With two hands the guest brushed back his hood.

“I think that I am known to several in this room,” he said. “Some of you were

present at my investiture as Administrator of Corcyrus.”

“Menicius!” cried more than one man.

Ligurious staggered backwards.

“My dear Ligurious,” said Menicius, “your confederate in Corcyrus is now in

custody. He has confessed all. I deemed, accordingly, it might be of interest to

venture incognito to Argentum. I did so with the papers of a minor envoy,

bearing my own signature.”

How startled I was! I now recognized, and clearly, the hitherto unknown guest. I

had known him as Menicius, of the Metal Workers. He was the man whose life I had

spared when he had spoken out so forcibly against the Tatrix, on that day, so

long ago, when I had been in the palanquin with Ligurious, that day in which, in

the glory of a state procession, we had been carried through the streets of

Corcyrus Doubtless Drusus Rencius, who had prevented him from reaching the

palanquin, remembered him well, for his courage and his opposition to the rule

of the Tatrix.

“I was interested to hear that you were the leader of the opposition to the rule

of the Tatrix,” said Menicius to Ligurious. “I, myself, had thought that that

honor was mine.” Ligurious looked about himself. He took one or two steps

backward.

“I suggest that that man be put in shackles,” said Menicius. “Do it,” said

Claudius. Two guardsmen moved swiftly to Ligurious. In a moment his wrists had

been shackled behind him.

“The seals,” said Menicius, “on the package and letter of tile Hassan were

genuine. It is natural, however, that they were unfamiliar to you. They are

imprints of the new seal of Corcyrus. It was discovered, after the institution

of the new regime in Corcyrus, that the old seal was missing. Presumably it had

been taken by Ligurious in his flight from the city That now seems evident. For

this reason, and also to commemorate the rise of a new order in Corcyrus, it was

changed.”

Ligurious, shackled, looked down at the tiles.

Manicius came about the tables. He stopped before Sheila and myself. We, slaves,

put our heads to the tiles. “Lift your heads, Slaves,” he said. We complied.

“We meet again,” said Menicius to me.

“Yes, Master,” I said. “Who are you?” he asked.

“My master is Miles of Argentum,” I said. “He has named me ‘Sheila.’”

“You look well in slave chains, Sheila,” he said.

“Thank you, Master,” I said.

He turned to Sheila. “Who are you?” he asked. “My master is Hassan, of Kasra,”

she said. “He has named me ‘Sheila.’”

“You look well in slave chains, Sheila,” he said.

“Thank you, Master,” she said.

He then, from his robe’s, removed a package and, opening it, exhibited soft and

silken contents.

She drew back, shuddering in her chains.

“These are further garments from Corcyrus,” he said “They were taken from among

the belongings of the Tatrix of Corcyrus, found in her suite of rooms in the

palace.” He turned to regard Sheila. “Perhaps, you recognize them?” he asked.

“Admit nothing!”

“Consider the nature of these garments,” he said. “They are clearly, in a

fashion, slave garments. This may be determined from their lightness, their

softness and thinness. On the other hand, there are some anomalies here. For

example, note that here there is a nether closure. That would certainly be

unusual in a garment permitted by a Gorean master to a female slave.”

“They are barbarian garments,” he said. The garments hE There was laughter here.

was exhibiting to those at the tables were undergarments of sorts common to free

women of Earth. I had not really thought before, of how feminine they were and

how appropriate to slaves. Who but a slave would permit such delicious delicate

and silken things to touch their bodies?

“But few barbarian girls, as nearly as we can tell, come to Gor clothed and, if

they do, they are seldom permitted to retain their clothing, or the bits of

clothing left to them at that point, past the sales block, on which, one

supposes, it might be removed from them.”

There was some acknowledgement of this from the tables There is a Gorean saying

that only a fool buys a woman clothed.

“The Tatrix of Corcyrus, on the other hand, though a barbarian, was apparently

permitted to keep this clothing. Similarly she was permitted to keep her

freedom. That was removed from her only recently by Hassan and Kasra.”

Men at the tables looked at one another.

“Some of us,” said Menicius, “are familiar with the rumors, the frightening

rumors, that there are forces on Gor and elsewhere, who would challenge the

power of the. Priest Kings themselves, rulers of Gor from time.

Men looked at one another, fearfully. Sometimes it seem likely to me that the

Priest-Kings were mythical entities. Surely they mixed, as far as I could tell,

little in the affairs of Gorf. On the other hand, it was also clear to me that

someone, or something, must be in opposition to the forces which bad brought me

to Gor. Those forces, for example, had mastered space flight. Surely Goreans,

with their swords and spears, by themselves, could not have resisted them. Their

clandestine efforts, for all their power, suggested the existence of a

formidable counter-power. That counter-power, I suppose, for want of a better

name, might be referred to as that of Priest-Kings.

“it seems likely to me, thus,” said Menicius, “that such forces might bring

wealth and barbarian agents, perhaps, with no Gorean allegiances, to our world,

laboring in their behalf Too, of course, they might recruit native Goreans for

their purposes. How, except for such power, could a barbarian woman, ‘such as

Sheila, the former Tatrix of Corcyrus, come to power in a city such as Corcyrus?

I suspect, also, that the true motivation of the attack on the mines of Argentum

was not to fill the coffers of Corcyrus, already a prosperous city, but to

supplement the economic resources of these other foes. They intend, perhaps,

failing success in outward aggression, to subvert our world, city by city, or to

form a league of cities, that may become dominant among our states. This might

be accomplished, presumably, within the weapon laws and technological

limitations imposed upon Gorean humans by Priest-Kings, for whatever might be

their purposes.”

Men looked at Sheila. She put her head down, trembling.

“Preposterous though those ideas may sound,” said Menicius, “there is some

plausibility to them. Too, further evidence comes from two sources. Outside of

Corcyrus, in a great field, have been found burned grass and three large, deep,

geometrically spaced depressions, as though something of great heat and weight,

perhaps some giant, heated steel insect or fiery mechanical bird, had alighted

there. Too, within the palace itself, in a subterranean chamber, we found the

smells, the spoor and traces of some large, unknown beast which, apparently,

perhaps from time to time, resided there. It had apparently removed itself from

those premises, however, well before the downfall of the city.”

Ligurious was looking at the tiles. He did not look up. “Ligurious?” asked

Claudius.

“I know nothing of these things,” said Ligurious, shrugging.

“Shall we see whose garments’ these are?” inquired Menicius, lifting the

delicate undergarments of Earth clutched in his fist.

“Yes, yes,” said various men in the room.

“Please, no, Master!” wept Sheila. Then she lowered her head, cringing, for she

had spoken without permission. The soldier behind her looked to Hassan, who

nodded. He then cuffed her to her side from behind with the back of his hand and

then ordered her again to her knees, to which position she struggled in her

chains. Menicus, meanwhile, had thrown the garments, in a silken, fluttering

wad, to one of the sleen masters who thrust them beneath the snout of the beast.

In a moment it was moving swiftly about the room its nose to the floor, and

then, suddenly, taking the scent, lunged murderously, claws slipping on the

tiles, toward Sheila. Inches from her body, the chain on its collar jerked taut,

it was held back

She screamed but could not withdraw, held mercilessly, immobilely, on her knees,

in place, by the soldier behind her.

“The identification is made,” said Claudius, and, with a wave of his hand,

signaled the sleen keeper to divert and pacify his beast. A word was whispered.

The sleen, suddenly in the superbness of its training, drew back. It seemed,

suddenly calm. Its tail no longer lashed back and forth. Its tongue, from the

heat of its activity, lolled forth from its mouth, dripping saliva to the tiles.

I could see, too, the imprint of its paws, in dampness, on the tiles. The sleen

tends to sweat largely through its mouth and the leathery paws of its feet. It

fell upon the meat which it was thrown.

Sheila, released by the soldier, struggled to remain upright

She sobbed, then, gasping, shuddering, her head back, half in shock. I was