Captive of Gor (13 page)

backed toward the harness. The two extra crewmen were unchaining the wagon.

Some men came down to the pier to watch us land. Others stopped, too, for a

time, to regard us.

The men wore rough work tunics. They seemed hardly.

There was a strong smell of fish and salt in the air.

There is a little market in simple Laura for the more exquisite goods of Gor.

Seldom will one find there Torian rolls of gold wire, interlocking cubes of

silver from Tharna, rubies carved into tiny, burning panthers from Schendi,

nutmegs and cloves, spikenard and peppers from the lands east of Bazi, the

floral brocades, the perfumes of Tyros, the dark wines, the gorgeous diaphanous

silks of glorious Ar. Life, even by Gorean standards, is primitive in the region

of the Laurius, and northward, to the great forests, and along the coast, upward

to Torvaldsland.

Yet I had little doubt that the strong, large-handed men of Laura, sturdy in

their work tunics, who stopped to regard (pg. 87) us, would not appreciate the

body of a slave girl, provided she is vital, and loves, and leaps helplessly to

their touch.

“Tal, Kajirae!” cried one of the men, waving.

Ute pressed against the bars, waving back at him.

The men cheered.

“Do not smile at anyone,” warned Lana. “It would not be well to be sold in

Laura.”

“I do not care where I am sold,” said Ute.

“You are high on the chain,” said Inge to Ute. “Targo will not sell you until he

reaches Ar.” Then Inge looked at me, frankly. “He might sell you,” she told me.

“You are an untrained barbarian.”

I hated Inge.

But I feared she was right. I suddenly became afraid that I might b sold in this

river port to spend the rest of my life as the slave of a fisherman or woodsman,

cooking and tending his hut. What a fate for Elinor Brinton! I must not be sold

here! I must not!

One of the extra bargemen came and, with his heavy key, unlocked the large

padlock that secured the gate of our slave cage. With a creak, he swung open the

gate.

Our own guards were behind him. “Slaves out,” said one of them. “Single file.”

We saw that the bosk had now been harnessed.

When we emerged from the cage, one by one, we were given our camisks, and placed

in throat coffle, fastened therein with a long length of bonding fiber, the

fiber looped about the neck of each, knotted, and then passed on to the next

girl. Our hands and feet were free. Where would one run in Laura? Where would

one run anywhere?

Barefoot we left the barge and stepped out onto the pier, walking along the left

sides of the wagons.

I could see a long wooden ramp leading up from the pier to a long wooden road

winding between the crowded warehouses. We, in coffle, followed this road. I

liked the smell of Laura, the fresh fields before the forests, even the smell of

the river and the wood. We could smell roast tarsk from somewhere. We, and the

wagons, passed between wooden (pg. 88) sleds, with leather runners, on which

there were squared blocks of granite, from the quarries west of Laura; and

between bales of sleen fur and panther hides, from the forests beyond. I put out

my hand and touched some of the sleen fur as I passed it. It was not unpleasing

to my touch. There were men who came to stand along the edge of the road to

watch us pass. I gathered that we were good merchandise. I walked very straight,

not looking at them. Then one of them, as I passed him, reached out and seized

my leg, from the back, behind the knee. I cried out in alarm, leaping away. The

men laughed. One of the guards stepped between us, with his spear. “Buy her,” he

said, not unpleasantly. The man bowed low to the guard in mock apology. The

other men laughed, and we continued on our way. I could feel his hand on my leg

for several minutes. For some reason I was pleased. No had had reached out to

touch Lana!

The smell of roast tarsk became stronger and, to our delight, the wagons turned

and rolled into one of the huge warehouses. The floor was smooth. When we were

inside the doors were closed. Then, kneeling, delighted, we were fed bread and

roast tarsk, and hot bosk milk.

I became aware of Targo standing over me.

“Why did the docksman touch you?” he asked.

I put down my head. “I do not know, Master,” I said.

The one-eyed, grizzled guard stood near Tyros. ”She now walks better than she

did,” he said.

“Do you think she might become beautiful?” asked Targo.

That seemed to me a strange question. Surely a girl is either beautiful or not

beautiful.

“She might,” said the guard. “She has become more beautiful since we have owned

her.”

This pleased me, but I did not understand it.

“It is hard for a white silk girl to be beautiful,” said Targo.

“Yes,” said the guard, “but there is a good market for white silkers.”

I did not understand this.

(pg. 89) When I looked at Targo again, he said, “Put her six on the chain.”

I looked down, flushed with pleasure. When I looked up again Targo and the guard

were elsewhere. I began to chew my bread and roast tarsk. I glanced at the

former five and six girl, now four and five. They were not much pleased.

“Barbarian,” said the six girl. “Five girl,” I said to her.

But Targo did not display this chain in Laura, to my relief. He wanted higher

prices.

After we had eaten we continued on our way, climbing the wooden streets, tied

together by the neck beside the wagons. Once we passed a paga tavern, and,

inside, belled and jeweled, otherwise unclothed. I saw a girl dancing on a

square of sand between the tables. She danced slowly, exquisitely, to the music

of primitive instruments. I was stunned. Then there was a jerk at my neck, on

the binding fiber, and the guard prodded me ahead with the butt of his spear.

Never had I seen so sensuous a woman. About noon we arrived at a slave compound

north of Laura. There are several such. Targo had rented space in one compound,

adjoining others. Our compound shared a common wall of bars with another, that

of Haakon of Skjern, whom Targo had traveled north to do business with. The

compounds are formed of windowless log dormitories, floored with stone on which

straw is spread; the dormitory then opens by one small door, about a yard high,

into the barred exercise yard. This yard resembles a large cage. Its walls are

bars, and its roof, too. The roof bars are supported at places in the yard by

iron stanchions. There had been rain recently in Laura and the yard was muddy,

but I found it more pleasant than the stuffy interior of the dormitory. We were

not permitted our camisks in the compound, perhaps because of the mud in the

yard.

In the compound adjoining ours, crowded, there were some two hundred and fifty

to three hundred village girls. Some of these, not too many, did a good deal of

wailing, which I did not much care for. I was pleased that the guards, with

whips, kept them silent at night. That way we could (pg. 90) all get some sleep.

They were stripped and slaves, but, each morning, they would still braid one

another’s long, blond hair. That seemed important to them, and they were

permitted to do it, for some reason. Targo’s other girls, of whom I was one, all

wore their hair long and combed, straight. I was hoping my hair would grow

swiftly. Lana had the longest hair of all of us. It fell below the small of her

back. I had fantasies of putting my hands in it and shaking her head until she

screamed for mercy. Most of the village girls taken by the raiders of Haakon of

Skjern, in the villages to the north of the Laurius, and from the coastal

villages, upward even to the borders of Torvaldsland. Most did not seem too

distressed about their slavery. I gathered that life in the villages must be

hard for a young girl. Targo would have his pick of one hundred of these women.

He had paid a deposit of fifty golden tarn disks, and on our first morning in

the compound, I had seem him pay one hundred and fifty more to the huge,

bearded, scowling Haakon of Skjern. I had watched Targo, not hurrying, with his

expert eye and quick, delicate hands, examining the women. Sometimes they would

try to pull away from him. when they did they were held by two guards. I

recalled that he had once similarly examined me, shortly after we had

encountered our first caravan. At one point I had cried out and my body had

leaped, uncontrollably. He had seemed pleased. “Kajira,” he had said. I noted

that girls who responded similarly were invariably selected, sometimes over

their more beautiful sisters in bondage. I thought, however, that none of them

had responded as I had responded. Targo took more than two days to make his

choices. When he did make a choice the girl was removed to our compound. They

did not mix with us but, with their northern accents, kept to themselves. A full

day was spent in the heating of irons and the branding of them. These were not

pleasant days, incidentally, for the new girl, Rena of Lydius. She was kept

within the dormitory, her wrists behind her back, fastened with slave bracelets,

he neck chained to a heavy ring set in the wall. Further, except (pg. 91) when

she was fed, she was kept in a gag and slave hood. She would sit against the

wall, knees drawn up, head down, the leather slave hood, with its gag, drawn

over her head and features. I was given the task of feeding her. When I first

unhooded her and removed the gag, she had pleaded with me that I help her

escape, or tell others of her plight. What a fool she was! I would be beaten for

such an act, perhaps even impaled! I told her “Be Silent, Slave!” and rehooded

and regagged her. I did not even feed her then, that she might learn her lesson.

I ate her portion that morning, and again in the evening. I had two extra

portions that day. The next morning when I freed her head she had tears in her

eyes but did not try to speak to me. I fed her in silence, thrusting food into

her mouth, telling her to eat swiftly, and then giving her a drink from the

leather water bag. Then I resecured her. She had been of high caste. I hated

her. I would treat her as what she was, a slave.

Beyond the compound of Haakon of Skjern I could see the compound of his tarns,

where, hobbled, the great birds beat their wings, threw back their heads and

screamed, and tore at the great pieces of bosk thrown before them. Sometimes

they tore at their hobbles and struck at their keepers with their pounding,

snapping wings, with hurricanes of dust and small stones, could hurl a man from

his feet. Those great rending beaks and pressing, ripping talons could tear him

in two as easily as the great thighs of bosk on which they fed. Even separated

as I was by three walls of bars, that of their compound, that of the far wall of

Haakon’s compound, and that of our common wall, these birds terrified me. The

northern beauties of Haakon, too, I was pleased to see, cowered away from that

side of their compound. Sometimes when one of the great birds screamed, several

of them would scream, too, and run, huddling away against our bars, or flying

into their log dormitory. I do not know why it is that women fear tarns so

terribly, but we do. But most men do, too. It is a rare man who will approach a

tarn. It is said that the tarn knows who is a tarnsman and who is not, and if

one approaches him who is not, he will seize him and rip (pg. 92) him to pieces.

It is little wonder that few men approach the beasts. I had seem tarn keepers,

but , except for Haakon of Skjern, I had seen no tarnsmen. They were wild men,

of the caste of warriors, who spent much of their time in the taverns of Laura,

fighting and gambling and drinking, while slave girls, excited and with shining

eyes, served them and pressed about them, begging to be noticed and ordered to

the alcoves. It was no wonder that some men, even warriors, hated and envied the

arrogant, regal tarnsmen, one night rich, the next impoverished, always at the

elbow of adventure, and war and pleasure, wearing their pride and their manhood

in their walk, in the steel at their side and the look in their eyes.

But Haakon was a tarnsman, and he frightened me. He was ugly, and he seemed

treacherous.

Targo seemed nervous in doing business with him.

We remained six full days in Targo’s rented compound outside of Laura. On five

of these days, in the morning, I was taken with four other girls into Laura,

leashed with them, to bring back supplies. Two guards accompanied us. But,

interestingly, at a given building, one guard would separate me from the others

and together, the guard and I, we would got into the building, while the others

continued on to the market. Returning from the market they would call at the

building, at which time I and my guard would go outside. There I would be

leashed with the others again, the burdens would be redistributed. I would take

up my share, and, carrying my burden as a slave girl, on the head, balancing it

with one hand, I and the others, under guard, would return to the compound. The

last two times I begged to do so, and was permitted to carry a jar of wine on my