Rebels of Gor (46 page)

* * *

“That is a field slave, is it not?” had growled a stout peasant, seemingly a high man in one of the villages at which we had taken shelter.

“Of course,” had said Tajima.

“There are fields to be seeded,” he said.

Nezumi had looked up at him, from her knees, wildly. She had knelt at his first appearance in the doorway of the hut. A slave commonly kneels upon the appearance of a free person. It is a common slave deportment.

The fellow carried a switch. I gathered he might be in charge of the village’s field slaves.

He had apparently become aware of our presence shortly after we had entered the gate, shortly after dawn.

“Are you strangers?” he asked.

“Wayfarers, sojourners, and guests,” had said Tajima. I remained in the back of the hut.

“You are aware,” he said, “that this village lies under the suzerainty of Lord Yamada, Shogun of the Islands.”

“Fortunately for us,” had said Tajima, “for times and roads are dangerous, and the protection of the great lord’s law is welcome.”

There had been no mistaking the insignia of Yamada carved deeply into the two gateposts of the village.

“We have a coin for rice,” had said Haruki.

“A coin?” said the fellow, surprised.

“Yes,” said Haruki.

The common means of exchange were in terms of commodities, millet, rice, silk, coarser cloth, and such.

“Let me see your coin,” said the peasant.

“Have you seen one before?” asked Haruki.

“Of course,” said the fellow, belligerently.

Haruki removed a string from about his neck, and drew it forth, from beneath his long, gray shirt. On this string were seven or eight copper disks, each penetrated by a small, square opening, through which the string was threaded.

“They are shaved,” said the fellow.

“No,” said Haruki.

“Let me see,” said the fellow.

“Do not approach more closely,” said Haruki.

“He has two swords,” said the fellow, looking uneasily at Tajima.

“That is true,” said Haruki. “Thus, it would not be wise to approach more closely, unless permitted.”

A shaved coin is one from which a clip or filings of metal have been removed, which clips or filings, melted down in sufficient numbers, may be reformed into new coins, plates, or ingots. Copper, of course, and bronze, is seldom shaved. On the continent silver and gold coins are not unoften shaved. Accordingly, much transaction in various markets and “Streets of Coins,” takes place with scales. Valuable coins, of course, might also be debased, but if the coins are minted, struck by hammers from the molds, that is commonly done by a municipal authority, publicized or not. Much depends on trust, of course. For example is it not surprising, if one stops to consider it, that something of value, say, a
fukuro
of rice, or a slave, might be exchanged for a tiny piece of metal, of whatever sort? I had heard of one city in which the state had issued small black leather packets sewn shut, which packets were alleged to contain a golden tarsk. It was a capital offense in that state not to accept, and value, such a packet as containing a golden tarsk, and it was a capital offense, as well, to open such a packet, to see if it actually contained such a tarsk. The problematicity involved here is obvious. The packet contains a gold tarsk or not. If it does, the packet is unnecessary. Just use the gold tarsk. And if the packet does not contain a gold tarsk, then one is defrauded. So the packet is either pointless or a lie. The ultimate success or failure of this inventive economic adventure was never determined, as the city was attacked by several neighboring municipalities, was burned to the ground, and had salt cast upon its ashes. Sometimes, of course, such schemes might be more successful, as when a paper currency might be used, which can then be multiplied and produced in any amount deemed useful by an appropriate, armed authority.

“He is
ronin
,” said the peasant, regarding Tajima, “one of the waves, two swords with no daimyo.”

“But two swords,” said Haruki.

“I will bring you a
fukuro
of rice, from the storehouse,” said the peasant, “for your coins.”

“One coin for four
fukuros
of rice,” said Haruki.

As far as I could gather, this offer was quite generous on the part of Haruki, perhaps exceedingly so. It was hard to tell, however, for, as I have suggested, most exchange was done in terms of commodities. For example, a daimyo’s taxation levied on his subject villages, as noted earlier, was usually done in terms of rice, or, if the village was a fishing village, in terms of dried fish, or such.

“I am not a high, noble person,” said Haruki, “who may be fooled, deluded, and tricked by the first grasping, greedy peasant met on the road. I am of the peasantry myself. Do you not think I know our tricks?”

“Let me see the slave,” he said.

“Why?” said Haruki.

“A man,” he said, “astride a demon bird, with the banner of Yamada, visited our village.”

“Interesting,” said Tajima.

I assumed this must have been either Tyrtaios or his colleague, probably the colleague, as Tyrtaios would more likely be in closer contact with Lord Yamada.

“We are warned to watch for two fugitives, presumably afoot, a man, possibly a warrior, and a woman, a high lady.”

“But we are rather three, and a mere pretty-legged beast,” said Tajima. “Do you detect a high lady in our company?”

The peasant, glaring, moved back, away from the threshold.

“Girl,” he said.

“Master?” she said, frightened.

“Crawl to me on your knees,” he said, “your right wrist grasped behind you in your left hand, and kneel here, outside the hut, in the sunlight, your head back, that I may look upon you.”

Nezumi struggled forth, awkwardly, into the sunlight. Slaves obey free persons.

In the slave houses, girls being trained for the pleasures of men, namely, being taught the subtleties, skills, behaviors, and dispositions of the pleasure slave, are taught how to move, and now not to move. There is to be grace, submission, loveliness, and vulnerability in all things. She is, after all, a slave. She is not to conceal, deny, deride, resent, hate, or suppress her femininity, but to accept it, and liberate it, to rejoice in it, to revel in it, that she will be the fullest and most perfect of women, her master’s slave. Nezumi had not crawled well. She had not even known enough to draw back her shoulders, that the loveliness of her breasts would be accentuated beneath the thin, scarcely concealing rag of the field slave.

“She is collared,” said the peasant.

“Of course,” said Tajima.

I remained much back, in the darkness of the hut.

“Oh!” said the slave.

“This brand is fresh!” said the peasant, suspiciously.

“Yes,” said Tajima. “I bought her recently, and thought it judicious to mark her.”

The peasant dropped the hem of the garment.

“What butcher dressed her hair?” he asked.

“I bought her so,” said Tajima.

“Keep your head up and back, girl,” said the peasant.

He gazed for some time on her features. Free Pani women seldom veiled themselves. Accordingly, if he had ever seen the daughter of the shogun in the past, he might well have identified her. Had he done so I supposed that we would have had to kill him. On the other hand, perhaps it would have taken a familiar, keen eye, one well acquainted with the girl, to behold the features of the sophisticated, delicate, elegant Sumomo in the uplifted, sullied, frightened visage of Tajima’s Nezumi.

“She is unkempt, and filthy,” he said, “a sorry slave.”

“But she has pretty legs,” said Tajima.

The peasant snapped the switch he carried smartly into the palm of his hand. Nezumi flinched.

“If you are to stay in the village,” said the peasant, “if you are to enjoy our hospitality, you will earn your rice. There are stones to be carried, wood to be cut, and water to be drawn.”

“That is eminently fair,” said Tajima.

“How does this slave take the switch?” he asked.

“With reluctance, I wager,” said Tajima. “I have not much switched her.”

“Put your head down,” said the peasant to Nezumi.

“Oh!” she cried, startled, in pain. The switch had lashed down, viciously, catching the slave on the left shoulder, near the neck.

Perhaps it was the first time she had ever been struck.

I had no doubt but what the blow had stung.

Nezumi sobbed, shaken, her head down.

“See?” said Tajima, affably.

I could note the welt rising, even now.

“You men will follow me,” he said. “As for you, lazy girl, on your feet! That way, to the wading fields. Run! You have already escaped two Ahn of work! Run, run!”

Nezumi leaped to her feet, sobbing, and hurried in the direction indicated. The peasant pursued her briefly, laying his switch against the back of her thighs.

The peasant then strode off, toward the center of the village.

“I fear Nezumi knows nothing of the work in the wading fields,” I said.

“She will imitate the other girls,” said Tajima.

“I trust the other girls will treat her well,” I said.

“Your trust is misplaced,” said Tajima. “She is new, and has already missed two Ahn of labor.”

“Will there be an overseer?” I wondered.

“Of course,” said Tajima, “but it will probably be a First Girl.”

“I see,” I said.

“Do not fear,” he said. “She will have a switch.”

“I shall try to remain composed,” I said. “Do you not object to the fellow switching Nezumi?” I asked.

“No,” said Tajima. “It will be good for her, and we must remember that we are guests here.”

“We would not wish to be discourteous,” I said.

“No,” said Tajima.

“What of me?” I asked. “I am not Pani. I fear I will be conspicuous.”

“The fellow had little interest in you,” said Tajima. “It is well known there are several barbarians, mercenaries, amplifying the forces of Lord Temmu. He will presumably take you for a deserter, one wise enough to recognize that the cause of Lord Temmu is a lost cause.”

“Ho!” cried the peasant, turning, several yards ahead, and waving us on.

“Let us forward,” said Tajima, starting off.

“With a good heart,” I said.

“If you wish,” said Tajima. “I myself have never been fond of manual labor.”

A few Ahn later we returned to the hut, with two
fukuros
of rice. Nothing more had been said of coins. Shortly thereafter Nezumi, limping and muddy, with various welts on her thighs and arms, joined us. “My back is sore,” she said, “my muscles ache. I hobble. I have been switched. I can barely move.”

“How many field slaves were there?” asked Tajima.

“Ten,” she said.

“Where are they now?” he asked.

“Penned,” she said.

“At least,” said Tajima, “we were not suspected.”

“Do not be so sure, noble one,” said Haruki.

“How so, gardener
san
?” said Tajima.

“I do not think he knows us, noble one,” said Haruki, “but I think he is suspicious. If we are not those whom the rider of the demon bird sought, we may be others of interest. While we were detained with labors, busied so, two fellows left the village. I do not know their errand, but it may portend difficulties for us. Similarly, there was no difficulty about two
fukuros
of rice.”

“Our wages,” I proposed, “and some consideration for the application of Nezumi in the wading field.”

“It is all too easy,” said Haruki.

“You are overly suspicious,” said Tajima.

“I know these people,” said Haruki. “I am one of them.”

“What do you suggest?” I said.

“We will rest now and wait until dark. We will then break through the back of the hut, and leave thusly. The hut entrance may be watched. In my work today I examined the palings of the village. They are high, well-fastened, and deeply planted, but scalable from within in secrecy.”

“We have no rope,” I said.

“In my hewing of wood,” he said, “I left one trunk, tall and slender, fit for a paling, concealed amongst several others not yet turned into kindling, or dressed, not yet readied for the adz or plane. That trunk I notched in such a way that it might, leaned against the palings, afford the semblance of a ladder.”

“Wise Haruki,” I said.

“Excellent,” said Tajima.

“What of Nezumi?” I asked.

“If necessary,” said Tajima, “she can be bound and gagged, and a sling arranged for her.”

“Do you think she knows,” I asked, “that she is truly on a chain?” Sometimes it takes a woman a little time to understand this, that she is on a chain. To be sure, the more intelligent the woman the sooner she understands this, that she is helpless and without resource, that she is utterly incapable of altering her condition, that she exists in, and only exists in, a state of categorical and unqualified bondage. Then, restored to herself, and fulfilled in a thousand ways, she would not have it otherwise. In her collar, at the feet of strong men, to her joy, she has found herself.