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Authors: John Norman

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BOOK: Smugglers of Gor
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“A slave’s garment!” said Darla.

“I love it,” said Donna. “In it I am myself, and more free than I ever was!”

“Our mission was secret,” said Darla, angrily. “How did you learn of it?”

“Much is apparently at stake,” said Genserich. “If there are two large and complex forces involved, it is not unlikely that each has spies in the camp of the other, perhaps even highly placed spies.”

I was interested to hear this. I had not thought much of this before. It did not seem unlikely, however. I glanced over at Axel, but his attention was on Genserich.

“You see,” said Genserich, “I cannot release you, for then you would hasten to the Laurius, to deliver your report.”

“Then hold us for a time,” said Darla. “And then release us. I am sure the ship will depart the wharf soon. Once it does so, there would no longer be point, or advantage, to our report.”

“I have not been paid to release you,” said Genserich.

“Not the collar!” cried Darla.

“No, no!” cried Tuza, despite the monition earlier accorded her.

Emerald and Hiza were silent.

I had earlier sensed that something would be done with the prisoners today. The attackers would see no point in remaining here. I supposed it most likely the prisoners would be collared and sold. That is the common fate of a female prisoner, and surely, now, it was clear that the Panther Women were such prisoners. Axel, as I recalled, had been less sure of this.

“You know too much,” said Genserich. “I have been paid to kill you.”

“No, no!” cried Donna, aghast.

I recalled that Axel, earlier, had remarked that we did not know what the gold given to Genserich was intended to buy.

“No!” cried Darla.

“We are women, spare us, spare us!” wept Tuza.

“Now you are women?” said Genserich.

“Please, Master,” wept Donna. “Do not hurt them!”

“Mercy!” wept Emerald.

“Please, please!” said Hiza.

“It will be quick,” said Genserich.

“Prepare to set the sleen on Genserich,” I whispered to Axel.

“Do not be foolish,” he said. “Do you want to die?”

“We are women!” cried Darla.

“But free women,” said Genserich.

“The sleen,” I whispered to Axel.

“No,” he said. “Wait!”

“Now,” I said.

“Wait,” he said.

“Please,” cried Darla, “let it be the collar!”

“You are free,” said Genserich. “Surely you would not accept the indignity of the collar, of being sold?”

“Yes,” said Darla, “yes!”

“Be merciful, Master!” begged Donna.

“Mercy!” cried Tuza.

“Please, Master!” cried Emerald.

“‘Master’?” said Genserich.

“Yes, ‘Master’!” she cried.

“And what of you?” Genserich inquired of Hiza.

“Master!” she wept.

Genserich stepped back, and surveyed the prisoners.

“Pronounce yourself slave,” said Genserich.

“I am a slave!” said Darla.

“I am a slave!” said Tuza.

“I am a slave, Master!” said Emerald.

“I am a slave, Master!” said Hiza.

The women were now, legally, slaves. Such words cannot be unsaid.

“You may beg collars, as the slaves you are,” said Genserich.

“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Darla.

“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Tuza.

“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Emerald.

“As the slave I am, I beg a collar, Master,” said Hiza.

“Are you Panther Girls?” asked Genserich.

“No, we are slaves, Master,” said Darla.

“Thank you, Master!” cried Donna.

“We have been paid to kill them,” said Genserich, thoughtfully.

“Surely, Master,” said Donna, “you were paid to kill free women, not slaves. Free women are gone, slaves remain. Now there are only beasts. Surely one would no more kill a slave than a verr, a tarsk, a kaiila.”

“What think you, Aeson?” asked Genserich.

“If we had not apprehended them,” said Aeson, “we would have been unable to kill them.”

“True,” said Genserich.

“It is similar,” said Aeson. “You failed to cut their throats while you had the chance, while they were free.”

“An oversight,” said Genserich.

I doubted that.

“Now,” said Aeson, “if we kill them, we are merely butchering beasts. We were not paid for that.”

“Genak?” inquired Genserich.

“Please, Master,” said Donna to Genak.

“It seems a shame to waste slaves,” said Genak. “The two on the end,” he said, indicating Emerald and Hiza, “suitably dieted, exercised, and trained, might plausibly be chained to a slave ring. The other two might do as pot girls, kettle-and-mat girls, field slaves, mill girls, that sort of thing.”

“Even they,” said a fellow, eyeing Darla, “might learn their womanhood.”

She looked down, frightened.

“It is within every woman,” said another.

“I need not learn my womanhood, Master,” said Emerald. “I know it well. I have fought it for years.”

“That battle is now over,” said Genak, as he surveyed the kneeling slave.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“The employer is dangerous,” said Genserich. “He is unlikely to be satisfied.”

“Let us take them back to the Laurius,” said a fellow, “and turn them over to the employer, that he may do with them as he wishes.”

“Good,” said more than one man.

“He will kill them!” said Donna.

“Possibly,” said a man.

“Please sell us, Masters,” begged Darla. “There are selling poles on the coast. Bind us to them, and sell us to the crews of passing ships.”

“They watch for such things, as they pass,” said Tuza.

“It was done with me,” said Donna.

“We might claim we failed to find them,” said a man.

“Some lies are justified in honor,” said Genserich, “and some are not.”

“Surely, Master,” said Donna, “honors may war with honors.”

“It is dishonorable to lie,” said a man.

“Not more dishonorable than the slaughter of helpless slaves,” said another.

“The house of honor is large,” said a fellow. “Its turrets are clear, but only a fool would claim to know its every brick and stone.”

“The matter is delicate,” said Genserich.

“No!” said Donna.

“Such lies are perilous,” said a fellow. “They hang by many threads, and if one breaks, it is found out.”

“True,” said another. “The risk is too great.”

Tuza put down her head, and moaned.

“I will do it,” said a fellow whipping out a dagger. He rushed forward, and thrust Genserich to a side. The men about were confused, startled. This, clearly, they had not anticipated. The former Panther Girls, now slaves, Darla, Tuza, Emerald, and Hiza screamed, and tried to pull back. Donna, too, cried out in fear. Tula, Mila, and the other slave, called Vulo here, kneeling to the side, did so, as well. Before Genserich could regain his feet, the fellow’s hand was in Darla’s hair, and his blade was at her throat. I saw a drop of blood at its edge. She dared not make the slightest move or sound.

“The matter is not yet decided, Rorton,” said Genserich, angrily. “Sheathe your dagger, and return to your place.”

“I know weakness when I see it,” he said. “I declare myself first.”

“Mutiny!” said Aeson.

“If you would be first, let us do contest,” said Genserich.

“The employer has placed me amongst you,” he said, “to report independently to him, which I will. Perhaps there are others, as well. I do not know. He has paid his gold, and I will see that it has not been paid in vain. These women must be silenced, free or slave, for the information they bear.”

“Put away your dagger, Rorton,” said Genserich. “And that will be the end of it. We will deliberate further on the fate of the slaves.”

“Deliberation is weakness,” said Rorton. “We know what is to be done, and it wants only the doing.” He looked about, menacingly. “Do not interfere,” he said. “Draw no weapons, place no quarrel.”

The men about looked to Genserich, and to one another. Indecision was in their eyes, and in their mien.

Rorton, clearly, could move his blade across Darla’s throat before anyone could so much as draw a dagger.

“The matter has not yet been decided,” said Genserich.

“I have decided it,” said Rorton. “The employer is not to be crossed with impunity. Perhaps you have the wish to die, but I do not.”

“But you may die,” I said.

He looked at me, wildly.

“I do not fear to cross the employer, whoever or whatever he may be,” I said. “I do commend the employer, however, for having the foresight to put an agent, or agents, in place to further assure the success of his plans.”

“This one is first,” he said. Darla’s eyes were wide. She remained absolutely still.

I hoped I could count on the support of Axel.

“If you draw the blade on her throat,” I said, “the sleen will be set upon you.”

“Surely not!” said Rorton.

Axel put his head down, close to the shaggy, massive head of the beast. His lips moved, but what was communicated I could not hear, but the beast’s response was instantaneous. Its ears flattened themselves against the sides of its head, and it crouched down, and began to growl.

“It is the command of preparation, of readiness,” I said.

“Kill the beast!” cried Rorton to Genserich, and the others.

“It is a valuable animal,” said Genserich.

“Kill the strangers, both of them!” said Rorton.

“Are they not our guests?” said Genserich.

“Kill them!” demanded Rorton.

“I do not think it would be wise to attack a sleen master in the presence of his sleen,” said Genserich.

“Perhaps you would like to do so,” said Aeson.

“The employer will be displeased,” said Rorton.

“Employers are often displeased,” I said. “Let us suppose that a displeased employer will have you killed. That may or may not be the case. I do not know. If it is the case, your choice is simple. You may choose to die now, or later.”

“Put away your dagger, Rorton,” said Genserich.

Rorton looked to Axel. “You will not release the sleen!” he said.

“But I will,” said Axel.

Rorton stepped back, away from Darla, and returned his dagger, angrily, to its sheath.

Darla sank to the ground, unconscious.

“Who is first?” asked Genserich.

“Genserich is first,” said Rorton.

Three or four men gathered about Rorton. “Kill him,” said Aeson.

“No,” said Genserich. “He was faithful to his fee.”

“Be faithful to yours,” said Rorton. “The women must be killed.”

“Please, no, Master!” said Donna.

“Only a fool and a weakling attend to the words of a slave,” snarled Rorton.

“And only a fool or weakling ignores right and truth, regardless of by whom it is spoken,” said Genserich.

“Kill them,” said a fellow.

“No,” said another.

“They are mere slaves,” said a man.

“They possess knowledge,” said a man.

“So now do we all,” said a man.

“We beg mercy of our masters,” said Tuza.

“We are slaves,” said Emerald. “Show us mercy, Masters!”

“Mercy, Masters!” wept Hiza.

“Deliver them, as slaves, to the employer,” said a man. “He may then do with them what he wishes.”

“Good,” said a man.

“Yes,” said another.

“No, Master,” begged Donna.

“Be silent,” said Genserich.

“Let us count,” said a man.

“Yes,” said another.

“Count, tally,” said another.

“No,” said Genserich. “I am leader, I am first.”

“Then lead,” said Rorton.

“We will sell them,” said Genserich.

“No!” cried Rorton.

“Thank you, beloved Master!” said Donna, joyfully.

Genserich looked down upon her, angrily.

“Forgive me, Master!” she said. She had been warned to silence. I noted he did not strike her. Was he such a fool, I wondered, as to care for a slave? I feared so. Even strong men may have their weaknesses, their absurd flaws.

“We remain divided!” said Rorton.

“I am first,” said Genserich.

“You fear the sleen!” said Rorton.

“Of course,” he said. “What fool would not?”

“It may be killed,” said Rorton.

“Of course,” said Genserich.

“Then kill it,” said Rorton.

“No,” said Genserich. “It is beautiful.”

“It is hideous and dangerous,” said Rorton.

“And beautiful,” said Genserich.

I, and surely Axel, who knew more of sleen than I, realized it would not be difficult to kill the sleen. A swift, unexpected blow across the back of the neck with a
gladius
would sever the vertebrae.

Genserich looked down at the collapsed, unconscious form of Darla. As she lay in the neck rope, her legs drawn up, I did not think she was all that unattractive. “Awaken the slave,” he said.

Aeson went to the slave, and rudely kicked her, twice, in the thigh. She stirred, and opened her eyes. “Up, slut,” he said, “kneel up.”

“Yes,” she said, “— Master.”

Aeson seized her by the hair, that her face be held in place, and slapped her twice, first with the flat of his right hand, and then the back. She looked up at him, frightened, not understanding.

“You dallied too long in saying ‘Master’,” said Aeson.

“Forgive me, Master,” she said.

“Align them, with perfection,” said Genserich.

“Knees even,” said Aeson, “back on heels, back straight, belly in, head up, hands, palms down, on thighs!”

“What of their knees?” inquired a fellow.

“Let them remain closed,” said Genserich.

“They may be split later,” laughed a man.

“Of course,” said Genserich.

“Kill them now,” said Rorton. “It is best.”

The slaves paled, but did not break position. They knew themselves, as all slaves, in the absolute power of masters.

“You understand,” said Genserich, “that you are to obey instantly and unquestioningly?”

“Yes, Master,” they said.

“And,” said Genserich, “will you strive to be pleasing to your masters, and fully so, in all ways?”

“Yes, Master!” said Darla.

“Yes, Master!” said Tuza.

“Yes, Master!” said Emerald.

BOOK: Smugglers of Gor
11.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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