Kur of Gor (56 page)

"I would beg to serve Master,” she said.

"There is little time,” he said.

"I know,” she said.

Amongst Goreans, though one may use a slave as carelessly, as thoughtlessly, and indifferently as one might take a drink of water, as one might take a belt to her flanks, as one might, the need on one, cuff her to her knees, it is common to take one's time with her, often a morning or an afternoon, or an evening, sometimes a day. The lengthy and patient exploitation of a slave is one of the pleasures of the mastery. She is no stranger to his favorite viands, which she, most likely nude, for masters, at such times, often keep their slaves so, will prepare under his supervision, nor to the wines which she will measure and serve, her loveliness similarly exposed for his delectation, as much as the goblet, the serving surface, and such, nor to the furs at the foot of his couch, upon which, helplessly chained, she will be forced, again and again, mercilessly, at his pleasure, she willing or not, as an object, an animal, to endure prolonged lengthy, shameful, degrading ecstasies, ecstasies beyond the comprehension of the free woman, those of the mastered slave.

"Master could use a pack beast,” she said.

He regarded her.

"Surely,” she said.

"It is true,” he said.

"Let Lita be your pack beast,” she said.

"It can be a capital offense for a slave to touch a weapon,” said Cabot.

"Do not slaves sometimes arm their masters?” she asked.

"Sometimes,” he said.

"And do they not sometimes struggle beneath the weight of their masters’ shields?” she asked.

"Sometimes,” he said. “How would you know these things?"

"In teaching me Gorean,” she said, “the girls in the pleasure cylinder told me much of Gor."

"When they were not using their switches on you,” he said.

"Yes,” she smiled, ruefully.

"Your Gorean is coming along well,” he said.

"When an error in diction or grammar brings a stroke of the switch, one learns quickly and well,” she said.

"Surely,” she said, “if the slave has the master's permission, she might touch weapons?"

"Such permission is seldom granted,” he said.

"I might bear many arrows,” she said, “all that remain here."

"You might be slain on Gor,” said he, “to be discovered so, touching a weapon."

"We are not now on Gor,” she said.

"The men of Peisistratus are Gorean,” he said. “And there might be others."

"If it were clear I were no more than a pack beast,” she said, “who might object?"

"Perhaps none,” mused Cabot.

"And might they not be pleased, to see me helplessly burdened?"

"It pleases many to see a beautiful slave laboring,” said Cabot.

"How might a kaiila serve Master in such a situation?” she asked.

"You are a clever slave,” he grinned.

"May not a slave's question be answered?” she inquired.

"The arrows, bundled, would be upon its back, and the beast itself might not stray, being on its tether."

"Surely a slave,” she said, “might be so burdened?"

"And tethered?"

"Perhaps,” she said.

"But you are not a kaiila, pretty Lita,” said Cabot. “You have hands, small, pretty hands, with small, lovely fingers."

"Yes,” she said, “I have hands, but they may easily be made helpless."

He regarded her suddenly, sharply.

"As a slave,” she said, “I am no stranger to bonds, and have I not been helpless many times, while my Master, with his patience, and skills, worked his will upon me, forcing me, whether I willed it or not, to endure ecstasies, and then ecstasies beyond ecstasies?"

"Such things may be done to a slave,” he said.

"And are done to them!” she said.

"Of course,” he said.

"And our will means nothing!"

"True,” he said.

"And what Master may not understand,” she said, “is that we wish to be choiceless. We want our will to mean nothing."

Cabot was silent.

"Our bondage is a way of life,” she said. “We want to belong, to be owned, to kneel, to submit, to serve, wholly and helplessly. Our servitude, our submission, our categorical surrender, our helplessness, is important to us. We love being what we are. Our brands, our collars, are precious to us. Our bondage is our freedom, our servitude our liberty."

"I cannot understand this,” he said.

"Master is not a woman,” she said.

"You must remain here, to care for Lord Arcesilaus,” said Cabot.

This remark was met with a roar of fury from the back of the cave, and the gigantic, wounded Kur struggled to one elbow on the stone. Its eyes were blazing. The fangs at the right side of the jaw were visible. The nostrils were distended, the ears laid back. There was moisture about the visible fangs, and the lips.

"Master forgot to turn off the translator,” observed the slave, her head down, smiling.

"Vixen,” said Cabot to her, apparently in English. I do not find this word in the resources.

"Do not rise,” Cabot cautioned Lord Arcesilaus, for the Kur was now half on its feet, and blood emerged from beneath more than one bandage.

Cabot went to the back of the cave, and Lord Arcesilaus subsided, in obvious pain.

"The world is at stake,” came from the translator.

"You must be cared for,” said Cabot.

"Leave her behind,” said Lord Arcesilaus, “and I will eat her, and this I swear by all the faces of the Nameless One."

"We will leave water, and food,” said Cabot.

"Begone,” said Lord Arcesilaus.

Cabot and the slave set supplies within reach of the weakened, anguished Kur, water in vessels which were available from the purchases of Lord Grendel earlier, and what was left of edibles suitable for Kurii, meat from huntings, and some of the processed edibles which had been chemically designed for compatibility with the Kur metabolism. The latter, incidentally, are also edible by certain forms of animal life, sheep, goats, kaiila, humans, and such.

Cabot would take few supplies with him, as he expected foraging would be available, and he retained, as well, some of the coins won from Peisistratus, and, of course, the rubies he had originally been given by Lord Agamemnon, prior to the trial of Lord Pyrrhus.

Cabot then looked upon his lovely goods, the slave, Lita.

"Master?” she asked.

"Face away from me,” said Cabot. “Place your hands behind your back."

There were two swift, decisive clicks, almost simultaneous, and the slave, frightened, tried to separate her wrists.

"Master!” she said.

"Slave bracelets,” explained Cabot. “From Peisistratus. I have kept them in my pouch."

"I am helpless!” she said, jerking at the bracelets. “These are metal! I cannot slip them!"

"They are not intended to be slipped,” said Cabot.

"I did not expect to be braceleted,” she said.

"I find that acceptable,” said Cabot.

"If you must bind me, Master,” she said, “do not do so in this fashion, I beg you. Rather, use slave cord. That will hold a girl well."

"It would,” said Cabot, “but anyone might cut it away. Too, you might, in time, fray it, and sever it, say, on a sharp stone."

"You would have me enmetaled, braceleted, on our journey, so utterly helpless?"

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"I might as well be a kaiila,” she said.

"Precisely,” said Cabot.

"It was a joke!” she protested.

"Not at all,” said Cabot.

"And I suppose I am then to be tethered, as well,” she said.

"Certainly,” said Cabot.

"Surely not!” she said. “Surely not!"

He turned her about, rudely, and put the leash on her neck, over the collar. He then jerked twice on the leash, pulling it against the back of her neck. Such things are commonly done with slaves. They understand such things.

"I am tethered!” she said. “You have literally tethered me! I am literally tethered!"

"Yes,” said Cabot.

Cabot then held the leash taut, his fist but inches from her neck.

He then casually examined the shapely, braceleted captive of his leash, her face and throat, and shoulders and figure, scarcely concealed in the brief tunic, and her thighs, and calves, and ankles, and small, bared feet.

"I am enmetaled, and tethered,” she said. “Is Master satisfied?"

"I am considering the matter,” said Cabot.

"Master regards his slave boldly,” she said.

"Slaves may be so regarded,” he said.

"Does Master's pack beast meet with his approval?” she asked.

"For light loads, such as you might well replace the kaiila."

"A slave is flattered,” she said.

Cabot then slackened the leash, but did not release it.

"Doubtless I have little to fear now from Goreans,” she said, “as my status as a mere beast of burden is well displayed."

"You are a beast of burden, true,” said Cabot, “but scarcely one accountable as a mere beast of burden."

"Of course,” she said. “I am a female slave."

Cabot grinned.

The female slave, you see, is wholly at the mercy of the master.

She pulled a little at the bracelets.

"And doubtless the bracelets are to make even more clear my inability to alter or modify in any way the use to which I am to be put."

"Yes,” said Cabot. “In this way it should be made clear to Goreans that this is something done to you, and that you have had no say in it."

"I would be truly in jeopardy otherwise?” she asked.

"Quite possibly,” said Cabot. “And in this way, too, it should be clear to Kurii that you are in no way a participant or combatant, but only goods, only an animal, and slave."

"To be disposed of as victors see fit?"

"Precisely,” he said.

"I see,” she said.

"What I fear you may not see, truly see, even now, given your newness to your condition, and your Earth upbringing,” he said, “is that that is actually, exactly, what you are, and all that you are."

"Surely I understand all that,” she said.

"Intellectually, perhaps,” he said.

"'Intellectually'?” she said.

"Yes,” he said, “but now you are going to better understand it, truly understand it."

"Master?"

"In your pretty little belly,” he said, “as any other slave."

She looked at him, suddenly, wildly.

"Master!” she protested.

He then knelt her and, by the leash, pulled her head down, and, crossing her ankles, took the leash back, between her legs, and used its free end to fasten her ankles together.

"Do you understand?” he asked.

"Yes, Master,” she said.

"May I speak, Master,” she asked, with difficulty.

"No,” he said.

"Yes, Master,” she whispered.

He then began to gather together those arrows to the side, those not previously readied in his own blanket quiver. There were perhaps a hundred such missiles. He put them in four bundles, placed the bundles in a blanket, and fastened the whole across her back.

Later he freed her ankles and lifted her to her feet.

He then left the cave.

She followed him, staggering a little, on her tether.

Chapter, the Thirty-Seventh:

THE ENCOUNTERING OF SMALL CAMPS

"I am weary, Master,” said the slave.

"We will rest here, in this sheltering,” said Cabot.

It was little more than a bower.

For two days Cabot and his companion had followed the shore of Lake Fear, and had then made their way toward the area of major habitats.

They were now six days from the cave where they had left Lord Arcesilaus.

Occasionally, concealing themselves as they could, they passed small, dispirited camps of scattered Kurii, some maimed, some nursing wounds. These were survivors of the fleet's apparent disaster, and although some of these Kurii doubtless suspected, and at times even noted, the passage of Cabot and the slave, they did not challenge or attack them.

"I am sure, Master,” whispered Lita, “that twice our passage was understood."

"I think so,” said Cabot. One may sense such things, from the attitudes of many organisms, the liftings of heads, the alertness, the distending of nostrils, the turning of the ears.

It was difficult to avoid these small camps, which were numerous, and the senses of Kurii, as is well known, tend to be acute.

"Why were we not pursued?” she asked.

"I do not know,” said Cabot.

"What if we had been pursued?” she asked.

"Then,” said Cabot, “some would die, and then later, I suppose, us."

Cabot did not understand this at the time but these Kurii, as they had been defeated, and had yet dared to return to the world, had been refused admittance to the major habitats, and were awaiting their fates. Kurii tend not to be tolerant of failure. Too, they are reluctant to continue, so to speak, the bloodlines of defeat. Accordingly, defeated Kurii may be surgically altered, that their seed, perceived as defective, not be propagated. They are then banished to the precincts of the loathed nondominants. Alternatively they are accorded the option, elected by most, to do away with themselves in a manner appropriate to their remorse, and perceived dishonor. Indeed, in some of these camps, dangling bodies could be discerned, where some Kurii, perhaps anticipating the wrath of Lord Agamemnon, had hung themselves in shame.

"Do they not know of war in this world?” asked Lita.

"I do not know,” said Cabot.

It was true, though unknown at the time to Cabot and his slave, that many of these small, scattered groups were indeed unaware of the revolution, or civil war, raging at that time in their world.

"Some Kurii,” said Lita, “favor the revolution, and have planned it. How will Master know these from the minions and cohorts of Lord Agamemnon?"

"There must be ensigns of some sort,” said Cabot, “arm bands, flags, scarves, something, if only for the benefit of enlisted humans, to discriminate amongst the striving factions."

"All humans would be foes of Lord Agamemnon,” she said.

"Many, the cattle,” said Cabot, “might be neutral, others might favor the Theocrat of the World, and seek the emoluments he might offer for their allegiance."