Conspirators of Gor (33 page)

“Master!” I protested.

“Now,” he said.

My hands were then tied behind my back. He tied them tightly.

“Kneel down, and put your head to the stones,” he said.

I obeyed, a slave, but I expected my Mistress, at any moment, to intervene.

Surely she was about!

“Aii!” I cried, startled. “Oh, please, oh!” Then I cried, “Master! Master!”

He then turned me about, and tore my tunic down, to the waist.

I was then thrown forward, on the stones.

“Is this your slave?” asked the man.

I looked up, from my belly.

“Yes,” said the Lady Bina.

“I return her to you, for the lashing she deserves,” he said.

I gathered the fellow had a righteous, proper streak. I was, after all, a woman’s serving slave.

“Did you find her attractive?” asked the Lady Bina.

“What?” he asked.

“Did you find her attractive?” asked the Lady Bina. “Could you conceive of men wanting her? Willing to buy her? Do you find her well shaped? Did she squirm well?”

I kept my head down. I had been given little opportunity to squirm.

“What are you asking me?” he asked.

“You are a man,” she said. “I am asking for your assessment of the girl.”

“She was made for the collar,” he said.

“Good,” she said.

“But she is to be as a woman’s serving slave, is she not?” he asked.

“No matter,” she said.

“I do not understand,” he said.

“She is a barbarian,” said the Lady Bina. “Does that dismay you, or give you pause?”

“No,” he said. “Barbarians make excellent slaves.”

“Good,” she said.

“They kick and juice as well as any other woman,” he said. “Forgive me, Lady, as well as any other slave.”

“Of course,” she said. “I now bid you good-day.”

“May Tor-tu-Gor warm you,” said the man.

“Thank you,” she said. “Come along, Allison.”

“My tunic, Mistress,” I said, “and I am bound.”

“No matter,” she said, “come along.”

So I followed her through the market, my head down, until we reached a stall, where the Lady Bina, I standing beside her, bargained for a stone of suls. It was late in the day, and the prices tend to be lower at such a time.

“I will need you,” she said, “to carry the suls.”

She looked about. “You,” she said to a tall, strapping fellow, in the gray and black of the Metal Workers, “untie this slave.”

He came to stand before me, and I felt his eyes, Gorean eyes, peruse me. I lifted my head, and turned away, angered. He looked at me as though I might have been on a block.

“You are in the presence of a free man,” he said. “Get on your knees.”

I suppose few women of Earth had heard such commands, but, hearing them, and in such a tone, I expect there would be few who would not obey.

I, collared, a slave, knelt immediately, frightened.

I looked up at him, from my knees, and our eyes met. I suddenly had the strange feeling that I was kneeling before my master.

I turned aside my head, no longer daring to look into his eyes.

Was I before my master?

“Untie her,” said the Lady Bina.

“I do not free slaves,” he said. “I bind them.”

Then he turned away.

I sensed he was a master who would well know what to do with a slave.

“You,” said the Lady Bina to the stallsman. “Untie her.”

He looked at her.

“The knots are tight,” said the Lady Bina. “I am a woman, with only a woman’s strength.”

“Surely,” said the stallsman, and freed my hands.

I rose to my feet, and tied up, as I could, the torn tunic, and replaced the kerchief. I then, carrying the suls, heeled my Mistress from the market.

“May I speak?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “You have, as of now, a standing permission to speak.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” I said.

“So speak,” she said.

“Is Mistress pleased?” I asked.

“You may put that differently,” said the Lady Bina.

“Is Mistress pleased with Allison?” I asked. I feared that the Mistress was learning more of Gor each day, perhaps, in part, from Delia, the companion of Epicrates.

“Yes,” she said, “I am pleased. I think you did very well, Allison. I am quite pleased. I think you will do very nicely.”

I was not clear as to Mistress’ intentions.

I followed behind her, carrying the suls.

I could not forget the Metal Worker, who ordered me to his feet. I thought I had seen him before, and more than once.

How strange had been the moment when our eyes had met.

Could I be, I wondered, his slave?

I was sure that, in his collar, I would indeed be his slave, and might not any woman?

In him I sensed a strange sense of power. I had the feeling that if I knelt before him I would lift my wrists to him, closely together, that they might be braceleted. Was his the leash, I wondered, which belonged on my neck?

How his eyes had roved me, my tunic half gone from me! What a beast, and monster, he was! How I scorned him, the large, callous, appraising, imperious brute! What could a woman be to such a man but a slave! His collar would be well locked on a woman’s neck! How he had looked upon me as a mere object, and yet, I sensed, as an object which he might find of some interest, slave interest. How I loathed him!

Then I dismissed these thoughts, for we had turned onto Emerald, and would soon be at the domicile.

* * * *

As the sheets were now folded, and readied for delivery, I put the kerchief about my head.

I then lifted the bundle, and held it on my head, steadying it with both hands.

It was in this fashion that I had seen tunic-clad girls bearing burdens.

It was my impression that my Mistress, and her guard, the beast, Grendel, had come to Gor, and, later, to Ar, with considerable resources, and might still retain an ample portion of these. These were in the form, I gathered, of jewels, in particular, rubies. I had accompanied the Lady Bina to the Street of Stones, actually a tiny district, only a few establishments, near the Street of Coins which, in effect, is itself not truly a street, but a district, where banking is done, credit extended, loans made, moneys changed, and such. In this “Street of Stones” she had exchanged a single ruby, which she had earlier shown to me, proud of its size, cut, luster, and hue. “This would purchase ten or more of you,” she said, “even if you were a silver-tarsk girl.” “Yes, Mistress,” I had said. I supposed it true, and that her estimate might well have been conservative. I do not know what she received for the stone, as I was not permitted in the shop. I must kneel outside, in the sun, head down, chained by the neck to a public slave ring. Such things are apparently common in Gorean cities, at least in the high cities, the tower cities, for the convenience of masters and mistresses. As slaves are animals it is easily understood that there are many places in which they are less than welcome. One would scarcely, for example, bring a kaiila into a shop. In particular, slaves are not permitted within the precincts of temples, lest these edifices be considered defiled by their presence. A free person might seek sanctuary in a temple, but a slave might be killed, if found within one, after which the temple must be purified.

I avoided, whenever possible, the bridges. This was usually possible as, in times of peace, one may enter most towers at the level of the street, and use the stairwells within them, to gain access to the various levels, with their corridors, from which one might reach apartments, ranging from simple one-room cubicles to large, elegant suites. Laundering is done variously in the cities. Most cities have public laundries to which garments, sheets, linen, and such, may be taken, weighed, and washed, and, for an additional fee, ironed. On the other hand, the public laundries do not deliver. There are, in addition, public laundering troughs, which are divided into those reserved for free women and those accessible to slaves. Women of high caste seldom launder, but women of low caste often do. If a household contains a slave or slaves they will do the laundry, as well as other domestic tasks. Many lower-caste households do not contain slaves. There are two primary reasons for this. Whereas slaves are abundant and cheap, it costs to keep them. Most obviously, they must be fed and, to some extent, clothed. Secondly, if the household is small, and a free companion is in the household, she may not care to have a slave on the premises. For example, Delia, the companion of Epicrates, was such a woman. In the towers there are often “tower slaves,” most often owned by the management of the tower. These slaves will launder, amongst attending to other domestic duties, sweeping, dusting, polishing, cleaning, scrubbing, and such, but there is an additional charge for such services. Accordingly, some residents in the towers rent work slaves whose services, being more intermittent and casual, are less expensive. Advertisements for such may be found on certain of the public boards. It was through Delia that the Lady Bina was first apprised of such matters.

It seemed important to the beast, and this did not much please the Lady Bina, who would surely have preferred a suite in a lofty tower, and an opulent mode of life, that they should live obscurely and appear impoverished. I supposed the beast’s desire for privacy was easy enough to understand, given its unusual nature and appearance. In the streets it would surely be noted, watched, followed, called to the attention of guardsmen, and so on. It would no longer be possible to move freely. It might be subjected to ridicule, derision, and abuse. Too, it was scarcely the sort of thing to parade on the bridges or keep in some exclusive residential tower. So, it was thus that it had taken up residence over a small shop on Emerald. Its existence, of course, was not entirely concealed from the world, as Delia and Epicrates were obviously aware of its presence, and it was occasionally seen in the streets, usually after dark. It was understood to be an unusual pet of the Lady Bina. Few understood it as a rational form of life. In some respects, despite its tendency to indulge the will of the Lady Bina, it ruled, and categorically, and the Lady Bina, however fretful and resentful, must abide by its will. Their housing was one such instance. The point of appearing impoverished was involved in this, as well, as the impoverished attract less attention and are less likely to be the target of aggression. Few thieves will rob where robbery seems pointless. It is a fool who dips his bucket in a dry well. To be sure, the Lady Bina did insist on raiment befitting a free woman of station. But the beast would seldom let her out at night, and, when he did, he was often in the vicinity, beside her, or following, sometimes lightly, stealthily, watchful, on the adjacent roofs.

Goreans tend to be curious as to whence one’s income is derived. If one has no obvious means of support suspicion is aroused. Few would suspect that the Lady Bina might have at her disposal a cache of rubies, or similar stones. And it would be well that such suspicions were not entertained, lest they provoke the interest of the unscrupulously acquisitive.

Indeed, I was not sure what resources the Lady Bina and the beast retained. Had the aforementioned ruby been their last? They had no new source of income of which I was aware, lest it might be from investments in the Street of Coins, but I knew of no such investments, and I suspected they would not wish their principal to be tethered to a particular location, nor, perhaps, would they care to have their wealth, if wealth they had, recognized.

In any event, whether as a mere aspect of their disguise, or because the pittances of my earnings might actually be important to their economy, I found myself serving as a work slave, a laundering slave, several customers having been located on the public boards by Delia, companion of Epicrates. The inference to be drawn, correctly or not, was apparently that the Lady Bina was so tragically impecunious that it seemed advisable for her to take in laundry, by means, of course, of her slave, the girl, Allison. I was never permitted of course, to touch this money. Delia would collect coins from some customers, the richer ones, and others, the ones less well off, would deliver the coins to the shop of Epicrates.

And so it came about that the former Allison Ashton-Baker, once of the upper classes of her world, once so superior and haughty, once so special and important in her own eyes, once one of the beauties of an exclusive sorority, at one of her country’s most selective and expensive schools, now tunicked and barefoot, carried laundry in Ar.

I had at first rebelled at this suggestion.

This had occurred after the incident of the Sul Market, that dealing with the Metal Worker. I was still smarting from that episode. I recalled my humiliation, my helpless fury, on my knees before him, put there by his words, half stripped and bound, and he one of lesser caste, only a Metal Worker! This may have motivated, at least in part, my transient, foolish recalcitrance. Did I think I was still Allison Ashton-Baker? Did I not know I was now a slave? I would be reminded. I would be left in no doubt. I would test my limits. I would be taught them.