Smugglers of Gor (42 page)

After breakfast, we cleared the mats, extinguished the fire, washed the gear of cooking and feeding in the Alexandra, and tidied the camp. Our bundles had been arranged and put to order by Hiza and Emerald.

We were standing by our burdens, I think about the eighth Ahn, awaiting the command to bear them, when Tuza drew out her knife, went to Darla, seized her by the hair, bent her head back, and put the blade of the knife to her throat.

“What is to be done with you?” asked Tuza.

“Sell me,” whispered Darla.

Hiza and Emerald gasped.

“Do my ears deceive me?” laughed Tuza.

“Sell me,” she said. “The sham is done. The charade is complete. The pretense is over. I am a woman, and a slave.”

Tuza sheathed her dagger, slapped her thigh, and turned, laughing, to Hiza and Emerald. “Hear that,” she laughed, “hear that!” But neither Hiza nor Emerald was laughing. Tula, Mila, and I stood near our burdens, frightened, mere women, feminine women, so unlike the mighty Panther Women, so unlike that we could be to them as naught but despised slaves, women of the sort which men immediately think of in terms of a brand and tunic, women of the sort which men think little of enslaving, and seek for their chains, their cords, their ropes, and straps, their collars. We dared not meet the eyes of the mistresses. I had thought that Darla, who was large and strong, was the fiercest, the mightiest, the most formidable of women, the bold and daring leader of a dangerous band of Panther Women, women to look up to, women before whom other women might kneel in fear, women not unlike the masters themselves, women not unlike men, but here was mighty Darla, naked, on her knees, chained and shackled, her ankles bound together with her own talmit, begging to be sold. Darla, I then realized, was a woman, and perhaps not so different from other women. Who knew what her thoughts had been, and her dreams? Perhaps she did have something in her of the woman, the blood, the instincts, the hopes, the needs, the fears, the desires, the longings, of the woman, the secret understanding, however hysterically denied, of her true place in nature, out of which she could not be herself. It was as though some image, some proud, contrived, clay encasement of a reality had finally broken apart, separating, revealing, hitherto hidden within, something quite unlike the image, or encasement, something not hard but soft, not artificial but real, not false but true, and needful. Yes, I thought, she was a woman, a true woman, but, as yet, was incomplete, for she had no master. How I remembered much of this from my former world, when I had lain in my bed for hours at a time, restless and miserable, knowing myself a slave, but a slave without a master. So, I thought, the sorry wallet has been opened, and it contains a coin of gold; the dingy wrapper has been unrolled, and within it we find rare silk; the uninspiring
amphora
has been unsealed, and within it we find a splendid wine, the sort men might prize, and for which they might bid, and heatedly. Yes, I thought, regarding Darla, a collar might look well on her neck. Yes, I thought, it belongs there.

Tuza then was no longer laughing but, furious, she freed her switch from her belt, rushed upon Darla, and switched her, again and again. Though we were not struck, Tula, Mila, and myself cringed, reacting to each stroke, for we had felt the switch of Tuza, and well knew its air-parting hiss, its crack, and sting.

“Please stop, please stop, Mistress!” cried Darla. I supposed it was the first time she had ever been switched.

“Do not call me ‘Mistress’!” screamed Tuza, and gave her another stroke. “You are free, free!” she screamed, striking her twice more.

“Sell me,” begged Darla.

“No,” said Tuza.

“We sold Donna!” said Darla. “You helped me defeat her. You became second! We sold her together!”

“I have something else in mind for you,” said Tuza. “Do you think I would permit you the ignominy, the degradation, the raptures, of the kajira?”

Darla, laying on her side, miserable, her body well inscribed with the bright records of Tuza’s displeasure, looked up at her, confused, and frightened.

“Put her on her knees, that she may hear her fate,” said Tuza.

Hiza and Emerald positioned Darla before Tuza.

“Prepare to hear your sentence,” said Tuza.

Darla looked up at her.

“You have been defeated,” said Tuza.

“Treachery,” said Darla.

“No more than when we leapt upon Donna in her sleep, and bound her,” said Tuza.

“I am not to be sold?” said Darla.

“No,” said Tuza.

“What then?” asked Darla, trembling.

“I am now ready to pronounce your sentence,” said Tuza.

“I am free,” said Darla. “Let me speak.”

“Speak,” said Tuza.

“It was I,” said Darla, “who in disguise at a trading point on the Laurius became first apprised of solicitations by the employer, seeking informants and scouts, to investigate rumors of a great ship being built near the headwaters of the Alexandra. He found few who would essay this task, for a great raiding party had recently been decimated in the northern forests. Many sent had failed to return, and those who had returned had nothing of substance to report. Ships sent to the mouth of the Alexandra had discovered nothing, and some apparently had fallen to pirates. It took me little time to discover that the employer had considerable, if finite, resources at his disposal. Indeed, he had, in the absence of other intelligence, organized a small army, recruited from a dozen cities, to close the mouth of the Alexandra, to prevent the exiting of this ship, should it exist. But even for his resources, this would be an expense which might ruin cities, and leagues of cities. He was thus in desperate need of intelligence. He must discover if the ship existed, and, if so, ascertain its location. Once this was done a stout raiding party might attack and destroy the ship, and withdraw with little, if any, loss. The mouth of the Alexandra then need not be closed, and its numerous guardians, in effect an army, might be paid and dismissed. Men talk much in their cups and I, posing as a free brothel mistress, shopping for brothel slaves, in various taverns, learned these things. It was then only necessary to contact the employer, and convince him that we might serve his purpose. Who would suspect a handful of Panther Women? Indeed, who might even know they were about? We know the forests, and their ways. We can move as quietly as the night. We can live off the land, like the beasts. We can hunt like the panther, and strike like the ost. We could well succeed where men, unfamiliar with the woods and woodcraft, would be likely to fail. Too, Panther Women do not range that far north, and it is late autumn. We would not be anticipated. Few would think of us, at all, if they did, certainly not that late in the season. Would we not be ideal for his purposes? So I must contact the employer and did so, with a hurled, note-bearing knife, cast from the darkness, which lodged itself in the center pole of his tent, not two horts from his head. By means of this device I conveyed our proposal and specified, as well, a secret meeting place, should he be interested. He was. And your wallets bulge with gold, a pittance compared to what we will receive upon our return and our imparting of our information. And it was I who brought you through the forest, for many days, far from our range, to spy upon the mysteries of the Alexandra. We have done our work well. We located the ship, and we have determined it might soon depart its wharf. Accordingly we must hurry to the Laurius, make our report, and gather in our riches. I have done much. I have led you well. Much skill and risk were involved in this. Free me and return to me the talmit of command.”

Tuza looked at Darla, thoughtfully. Then she said, “Relieve her ankles of the knotted talmit, with which we have bound them together.”

Hiza untied the talmit from Darla’s ankles, and handed it to Tuza.

“These chains and shackles, as well!” said Darla. She moved her knees. She pulled at her wrists, behind her back, held in the cuffs, attached to the waist chain. How well secured she was, I thought. How helpless we are in such things!

Tuza spread the talmit out.

Darla made as though to rise.

“Stay on your knees,” said Tuza, and she then wrapped the talmit about her own brow.

“I do not understand,” said Darla.

“When a Panther Woman has been found displeasing to her leader,” she said, “it is our way that she be punished, and you have not been found pleasing to your leader.”

“Sell me,” begged Darla.

“Prepare to hear your sentence,” said Tuza.

“Sell me,” begged Darla, “to anyone, even a woman, if you so hate me.”

“You will be driven from the camp,” said Tuza. “Get her on her feet.”

Hiza and Emerald lifted Darla to her feet.

“Relieve me of my chains, my shackles!” cried Darla.

“Get out,” said Tuza, lifting her switch.

“Free me!” wept Darla. “Give me a weapon, if only a knife!”

“Away, slut,” snarled Tuza, lifting the switch.

“I am helpless,” said Darla. “I am naked. I cannot use my hands. I am shackled. I can barely move. The beasts will have me.”

Tuza turned back to face Hiza and Emerald. “So it is,” she said, “that the talmit may pass from one to another in the band. It is not uncommon. Surely such things are familiar. Do not concern yourselves. It is our way. Let the strongest and wisest, the fiercest, the most clever, rule. She is not needed. She could not be trusted. She betrayed, and sold Donna. We can find our way back. There will be more gold for all of us. Gather your weapons. We are breaking camp.”

“Have mercy!” begged Darla.

“Must you be switched from the camp?” inquired Tuza.

Darla backed away, in misery, but she stopped, at the edge of the camp.

“Bundles up,” said Hiza, and Tula, Mila, and myself, on our rope, bent down, and lifted our bundles to our head, steadying them with our hands.

Darla fell to her knees. “Do not leave me here,” she begged. “Take me with you! Have mercy! You are now the mighty, indisputable, and noble leader. I acknowledge it. Take me with you, if only as bearer of burdens! Keep me if you wish. Sell me if you wish! Take me with you! I beg mercy!”

“Who begs mercy?” said Tuza.

“I beg mercy!”

“Who?” inquired Tuza.

“Darla begs mercy!” she wept.

“Darla,” said Tuza, “the properly deposed, worthless, meaningless slut?”

“Yes,” said Darla, “Darla, the properly deposed, worthless, meaningless slut begs mercy!”

“If you attempt to follow us,” said Tuza, “your throat will be cut.”

Darla then collapsed, weeping, at the edge of the camp. She lay in the dirt, sobbing.

“Prepare to trek,” said Tuza, lifting her hand.

We steadied our bundles. When she lowered her hand, and indicated the trail ahead, we would move. The first step is taken with the left foot.

“Seize them!” I heard. A woman’s voice.

We looked about, startled, wildly, to our right. A woman had emerged from the forest, pointing toward us. She was a sturdy woman, but one clearly worthy of a slave block. Her hair was black, and undone. She was barefoot. She wore a brief tunic, of bright scarlet. In the forest that would be easily marked. She was collared. There seemed much motion behind her, rapidly moving shadows amongst the trees. I saw the gleam of a weapon.

“Seize them!” she cried again, standing, pointing to our group.

“Donna!” cried Tuza.

“Do not move,” said the fellow. “Hold the beast!”

Axel tightened his grip on the leash of Tiomines. “Steady,” he said to the sleen.

We were ringed with spears.

Our attention, I fear, had been on our own business, pursuing a small group, some four or five, of Panther Girls. These were suspected of spying on Shipcamp, doubtless to report to some larger body.

The newcomers had moved with stealth, and were suddenly, too suddenly, upon us.

“Be silent!” warned the fellow who seemed to be their leader, his hand warningly before his mouth.

I doubted that we, back in the forest, were now more than some two hundred paces from our quarry. Axel, clearly, was primarily concerned to establish its existence, numbers, and direction, following which he would consider his possible course of action, either to attempt to deal with it, saving at least one prisoner who might be later interrogated at Shipcamp, or, if it seemed prudential, to withdraw and, by means of the whistle of summoning, draw on additional forces, those come from the ships, who were, as far as we knew, ignorant of the location of, even of the existence of, Shipcamp. If these additional forces were beyond the reach of the whistle, so far that not even their larl might take note of the signal, I was to return to Shipcamp, and bring men, following the river west. He, with Tiomines, would retain contact with the quarry. It had apparently been the speculation of Axel, or, more likely, that of Tyrtaios, that Panther Girls, if they were in the vicinity, might note the fled slave, and, naturally, would not be averse to acquiring her. Such obviously have value. They may be sold. In this way, following the scent of the fled slave, it was possible that one might locate the Panther Girls. Indeed, the slave, if encountering Panther Girls, might even have been foolish enough to call herself to their attention, perhaps hoping to elicit aid, perhaps hoping, even, to be enlisted as a member of their band, and not simply taken in hand as she would be, as the slave she was. To be sure, there had apparently been some sort of contact between Asperiche and Axel. I must remember to beat her. Whereas Axel had all this clearly in mind and had explained it to me, my own interest here was not identical with his. It was not that I had the least interest in a fugitive slave, who might have been any slave, for are they not all the same, but rather that I had thought it would be a pleasant outing, an amusement, a bit of sport, to pursue the little beast, to let it run awhile, and then catch it, rope it, and return it to her masters, the Pani. Certainly I had no intention of being a courier to Shipcamp. To be sure, the entire matter was moot at the moment.

“If you release the sleen,” said the fellow, “it will be killed.”