Slave Girl of Gor (19 page)

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Authors: John Norman

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Action & Adventure, #Adventure, #Erotica, #Science Fiction; American, #Gor (Imaginary Place), #Outer Space, #Slaves - Social Conditions

BOOK: Slave Girl of Gor
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From the striped tent in the center of the camp another girl emerged, clad like the other in the sleeveless gown, a circlet on her throat and left wrist, and made her way toward the supplies wagon. She left the pavillionlike tent sedately but, as soon as she was no longer visible through the opening in the tent she threw back her head, shaking her hair, and then, her gait transformed, sauntered like a she-sleen to the side of the wagon. I gasped. The walk could only have been that of a slave girl. I then realized that the girls in attendance on the veiled woman, who had been seated in the curule chair on the palanquin, were slaves. The circlets on their throats were doubtless collars, and the wristlet each wore was doubtless naught but matching slave jewelry. But they were obviously high slaves, judging by the fineness of their raiment. They were the slave maids of the Lady Sabina, doubtless belonging to her. I wondered how long it had been since one of them had had the hands of a man on her body.

"Quiet is the night," called one of the guards.

"Quiet is the night," was echoed by other guards about the camp.

I looked up at the largest of the three Gorean moons. It was now full.

Tomorrow the retinue would continue on toward Ti, to be met two days from now, outside the city, by a welcoming procession. Or thus it was planned.

I felt my master's hand on my arm. It was not tight, but firm. I was in his power.

I did not understand my role in the events which were transpiring. I was not clear why my master and his men, and myself, scouted this camp, and now remained in its vicinity.

One lunar month from this date, by the phases of the largest moon, after days of preparation, the ceremony of the companionship was scheduled to be consummated in Ti, binding together as companions Thandar of Ti, son of Ebullius Gaius Cassius, Administrator of Ti, and the Lady Sabina, daughter of Kleomenes, high merchant in Fortress of Saphronicus. I hoped, naturally, that they would be happy. I was only a slave, but I did not think myself much less free than the Lady Sabina, whose beauty was being bartered for commercial and political power. I might have to be half naked in a bond girl's Ta-Teera but she, I expected, despite the wealth of her robes and jewels, was in her way as slave as I. Yet I did not feel sorry for her, for I had heard from Eta that she was a pretentious, haughty girl, one bold in speech and cruel to her slave maids. Many of the daughters of merchants are proud sorts, for the merchants themselves, by virtue of their power, tend to vanity and pride, and agitate, justifiably or not, for the inclusion of their caste among the high castes of Gor. Their pampered daughters, protected from work and responsibility, ostentatiously garbed and elaborately educated in caste trivia, tend to be spoiled and soft. Yet I did not wish the Lady Sabina unhappiness. I hoped that she would have a splendid companionship with Thander of Ti. Too, allaying my commiserations for the girl, for she had had no say in her companionship arrangements, was my understanding, conveyed by Eta, that she Looked forward to the match and was much pleased by it. In taking companionship with one of the Warriors she would raise caste, for the Warriors on Gor are among the high castes, of which there are five, the Initiates, Scribes, Physicians, Builders and Warriors. In many cities only members of the high castes may belong to the city's high council. Most Gorean cities are governed by an executive, the Administrator, in conjunction with the high council. Some cities are governed by a Ubar, who is in effect a military sovereign, sometimes a tyrant, whose word is law: The Ubar's power is limited institutionally only by his capacity to inspire and control those whose steel keeps him upon the throne. Sword loyalty is a bond of fidelity sworn to the Ubar. Gorean warriors seldom break this bond. It is not sworn lightly. It is sworn only to those who are thought fit to be Ubar. When the Ubar is thought to be unfit, it is thought, too, he has dishonored the pledge of sword loyalty. It is not then uncommon for him to die beneath the steel of his outraged men. Only a Ubar, it is said, may sit upon the throne of a Ubar. Only when a true Ubar sits upon the throne is it said the pledge of sword loyalty is binding. It was my hope that the Lady Sabina would be happy. It was said she was muck pleased to raise caste and would become, by this match, one of the high ladies of the Salerian Confederation, which was becoming powerful in the north. I did not think much of Thandar of Ti, perhaps because he was a man. I supposed he was not too pleased at being matched with a girl who was not of the five high castes, but surely he could appreciate the commercial and political significance of the match, and would be pleased to serve his city by doing his part. From the point of view of his father the bargain was a good one for Thandar was the youngest and least important of five sons; it was not as if his first or second son had been matched with a merchant's daughter; besides the match was politically and commercially expedient; who knew how ambitious might be the aspirations of Ti, and the Salerian Confederation? Too, from Thandar's point of view, if the match turned out to be a misery he, being a Gorean male of high caste, could content himself with bought women, who would fight one another and beg on their bellies to serve one such as he.

The gowned female slave, the circlet on her throat and wrist, reached into the supply wagon, into a sack, to find a larma. I watched her in the half darkness. I did not think she saw that, behind her, from the pavillionlike tent, the veiled Lady Sabina had emerged and followed her, with two of the other slave maids behind her, one with a switch. The girl at the wagon reached forward, extending her hand into a sack. One of the warriors of the camp was close behind her. I think she must have been aware of his presence but she gave no sign of this awareness. He put his hands on either side of her body, resting them on the wagon box. She turned, easily, not surprised, between his arms, to face him. She lifted the larma fruit and, her head up, looking at him, bit into it. She regarded him in the half darkness. She chewed at the fruit. He leaned over her. I saw the glint of gold at her throat. Suddenly her arms were about him and he was kissing her, she a slave in his arms in the half darkness. I saw her hand behind his back, the larma fruit, bitten into, still in her hand. "So, Shameless Slave!" cried the Lady Sabina, who had followed the girl, perhaps suspicious of her. The two who had been touching leapt apart, the girl crying out with misery and throwing herself to her knees at the foot of her mistress; the man backed away, angrily, startled.

"Shameless slave slut!" cried the Lady Sabina.

"Have pity, Mistress!" wept the caught slave girl, her head to her mistress' sandals.

"What is going on here?" demanded a man, emerging from the central, dark tent, which I took to be that of the headquarters of the camp. He carried a sword slung over his shoulder, loosely. He wore otherwise only a tunic and the heavy sandals, almost boots, of a soldier.

"Behold," cried the Lady Sabina, indicating the kneeling girl, "a lascivious slave girl!"

The soldier, the leader of the camp, I gathered, was not pleased at having his work or rest interrupted, but was concerned to be deferential.

"I followed her," said the Lady Sabina, "and found her here, shameless in the arms of a soldier, touching, kissing!"

"Pity, Mistress," wept the girl.

"Have I not, Lehna," inquired the Lady Sabina, sternly, "taught you proper deportment? Have I not instructed you in dignity? Is this how you betray my trust?"

"Forgive me, Mistress," wept the girl.

"You are not a paga slut," said the Lady Sabina. "You are the slave maid of a free woman."

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.

"Have I not set you always a model of elegance, an example of nobility and self-respect?" asked the Lady Sabina.

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.

"When you were twelve, my father bought you from the pens in Ar, and gave you to me."

"Yes, Mistress," she said.

"You were treated with great kindness. You were not put in the kitchens. You were not given to tharlarion drivers. You were taken into our own apartments. You were permitted to sleep in my own chamber, at the foot of my couch. You were trained diligently as a lady's maid."

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.

"Is that not a great honor for a slave slut?"

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.

"And yet," said the Lady Sabina, sadly, "how have I been repaid?"

The girl dared not answer, but kept her head down, trembling.

"I have been repaid with ingratitude," said the Lady Sabina.

"Oh, no!" cried the girl. "Lehna is grateful! Lehna is grateful to Mistress!"

"Have I not been kind to you?" demanded the Lady Sabina.

"Oh, yes, Mistress," said the girl.

"And yet I find you like a copper-tarsk rent slave in the arms of a retainer!"

"Forgive your girl, Mistress," begged the cringing slave.

"Have I often whipped you?" demanded the Lady Sabina.

"No," cried the girl. "No!"

"Do you think me weak?" inquired the Lady Sabina.

"No, Mistress," said the girl. "Kind, but not weak!"

"Beg," said the Lady Sabina.

"I beg to be whipped," said the girl.

The camp's leader, he with the sword slung over his shoulder, who had come forth from his tent, looked at the soldier in whose arms the girl had been discovered. He indicated the slave girl with his head. "Strip her and tie her," he said.

Angrily the man tore away the girl's gown and, with a bit of binding fiber, tied her on her knees, her wrists crossed and bound behind one of the spokes on the supply wagon.

"You are worthless," said the Lady Sabina to the bound slave. "You should carry paga in a paga tavern."

The slave cried out with misery, to be so demeaned.

A number of men had gathered about, to witness the scene. The captain was clearly irritated. "I shall speak to you later," he said to the soldier, dismissing him. The soldier turned and left.

The Lady Sabina extended her hand to one of the two slave girls who were with her. In her gloved hand was placed the switch the girl had carried for her.

She then approached the bound slave, who trembled. "Have I not always set you an example of nobility, dignity and self-respect?" asked the Lady Sabina.

"Yes, Mistress," said the girl.

"Naughty, naughty, salacious slave!" cried the Lady Sabina, striking her.

The girl cried out with the misery of her switching. I was startled at the fury with which the Lady Sabina struck the bound, collared girl. Richly did she lay the disciplinary device to the back and body of the imbonded wench, well punishing her for her lascivious indiscretion. Then, wearied, furious, the Lady Sabina cast aside the switch, turned, and went back to her tent. She was followed by the two girls who had accompanied her, one of whom retrieved the switch. The whipped beauty knelt against the wagon wheel, bound there, shuddering. I saw the gold of her collar beneath her dark hair.

When the Lady Sabina had finished her work and returned to her tent, followed by the two gowned slave girls, the leader of the camp, or captain, angrily, returned, too, to his tent, and the men, who had gathered around, returned to their duties, their rest or recreations.

The girl was left tied at the wheel, whipped.

My master looked upward, at the moons. From through the trees, on the other side of the camp, came what I took to be the sound of a bird, the hook-billed, night-crying fleer, which preys on nocturnal forest urts. The cry was repeated three times.

"Quiet is the night," called one of the camp guards, and this call was echoed by the others.

Again, three times, I heard the cry of the fleer.

My master slipped behind me. He held me, with his left hand. I felt, from the side, his knife slip beneath the veils at my face and throat. Then the knife's edge, I feeling it, thin, obdurate, pressed at my jugular.

"What is the duty of a slave girl?" he asked.

"Absolute obedience, Master," I whispered, frightened. "Absolute obedience." I scarcely dared to whisper, for fear of moving my throat beneath the knife.

I felt the knife leave my throat. I felt the black cloak in which I had been wrapped, concealing the largely white, rich, shimmering raiment in which I had been robed, slipped away.

"Run," said my master, indicating a path through the trees, past the far end of the camp. "And do not let yourself be captured."

He thrust me from him and I, miserable, confused, began to run.

I had gone no more than a dozen steps when I heard one of the guards at the camp cry out, "Halt! Stand! Name! City! Stand!" I did not stop, but pressed on.

"Who is it?" cried a man. "A free woman!" I heard. "Is it the Lady Sabina?" I heard cry. "Stop her!" I heard. "After her!"

I ran, madly.

The men, as I now think of it, must have been as confused as I was. I knew only that I feared them, and had been commanded to run. Too, my master had told me to avoid capture. Ignorant, wild, terrified, I ran.

I stumbled and fell, and scrambled to my feet, and ran again. I heard men crying out, and then, more frighteningly, I heard several leaving the camp, splashing across the stream, crashing through brush behind me. I was now among the trees, out of sight of the camp, but I was being pursued, by how many men I did not know.

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