Smugglers of Gor (45 page)

I kept my eyes down.

Well was I aware of the position in which I knelt.

I was uneasy.

I could not help how I felt. I feared my belly had become the belly of a slave.

The leader, with some of his men, was now by the four prone prisoners.

“Remove their necklaces, the armlets, bracelets, and such,” said the leader, “all ornaments.”

Some of the armlets and bracelets, I was sure, were of gold.

Then, at another word from the leader, the hands of the prisoners were pulled behind their back, and their wrists were laced together. So slender a bond would hold them helpless, as it would me. A man, I was confident, might have torn apart such a feeble restraint. Was this, I wondered, a mere convenience, such lacing being at hand, or was it intended to be informative, as well, reminding the proud Panther Women that they, too, were women.

“No, please, no!” whimpered Tuza, as her skins were cut away. Darla needed not be subjected to this attention, of course, as she had been similarly served, following Tuza’s victorious usurpation of leadership. Then the knife continued its rude work and Emerald and Hiza lay at men’s feet, no different from other free women, perhaps more refined, gentler creatures, who might, say, have been driven from sacked, burning cities, snared on bridges by soaring tarnsmen, netted on outings, lured into taverns, seized from caravans, gagged and abducted in darkness from inns, taken in raids on the baths.

“Neck-rope them,” said the leader.

“We will need rope,” said a fellow.

“It is at hand,” said the leader, nodding toward us with his head.

In a moment, Tula, Mila, and I had been freed of the neck rope, which had for so long held us together, like tied kaiila.

Freed of the rope I was suddenly excited and elated. What now might prevent my escape? I must strive mightily not to convey the least inkling of the ferment within me. I continued to kneel, docilely, though my heart was pounding, and my blood racing. How stupid they were! They did not know, of course, that I was from Earth. Put my knees apart, would they! I was not within walls, I was not chained. Few were about; the forest was dark, and wide. It would be easier to slip amongst the trees here than at Shipcamp.

It was with satisfaction, I am sure, that Tula and Mila, as well as I, observed our rope being knotted about the necks of the prone prisoners.

“Get them on their knees, as is appropriate for such,” said the leader.

The Panther Women whimpered and wept as they were dragged by their hair to their knees before the leader. Tears coursed their cheeks, their lips trembled. Then they were kneeling before the men, their wrists bound behind them, in coffle.

“Behold,” said the leader, “Panther Girls!”

“They look like slaves to me,” said a fellow.

“Where now,” said the leader, “are your pride, your weapons, your golden ornaments?”

“They are not in evidence,” said a fellow.

“Nor will they be,” said another.

“Behold Panther Girls,” said the leader, “as is appropriate for them, as they should be, helpless, naked, and bound.”

“Release us,” said Tuza. “You are ignorant, you would grasp lightning. We are in the employ of others, numerous and dangerous others. We have our mission. We must return to the Laurius. Free us, immediately!”

“You see, Master,” said Donna, who was standing to the side, in the background, in her scarlet tunic, “it is the very group you seek. I thought so. It is admitted! I found them for you. We have been successful.”

Darla turned angrily to Tuza. “You stupid she-tarsk,” she said.

“There are forces involved,” said the leader to Tuza and Darla, “which you do not understand, nor, fully, do we. But somewhere, perhaps faraway, there is to be a contest, one on which the fate of worlds may hang.”

“They were certainly well-paid,” said a fellow. “Their purses were heavy with gold.”

“No heavier than ours, I wager,” said the leader.

“You were hired to seek us out?” said Darla.

“Yes,” said the leader. He then turned to Tuza. “You spoke of a mission,” he said. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she said, sullenly.

“Kill her,” said the leader. A knife leapt from its sheath.

“No!” said Tuza. “I speak, I speak! We were sent to the forest to discover if rumors concerning a great ship being secretly built high on the Alexandra might be true, and, if true, to determine the location of this ship and its state of readiness to depart. It was planned then to dispatch a small, but swift, terrible force, perhaps only two hundred men, to destroy this ship before it could reach Thassa.”

“I have heard such rumors, of such a ship,” said the leader, “but I know nothing of such a ship.”

“We have seen it,” said Tuza. “Release us, you will be well paid.”

“We are already well-paid,” said the leader.

“What is to be our fate?” asked Darla.

“It is to be taken under consideration,” said the leader.

“I do not understand,” she said.

“Donna,” called the leader.

The dark-haired, striking, scarlet-tunicked slave approached, and stood before the prisoners. She carried Tuza’s switch.

“I trust you remember me,” said Donna, tapping the blade of the switch in the palm of her left hand. “You, Darla and Tuza, set upon me, bound me, and took me to the coast, where you sold me.”

Neither Darla nor Tuza responded. They did not meet her eyes. Both, I think, were angry, to be addressed by a slave.

“But,” said Donna, “I saw Darla stripped, and belly-braceleted, and shackled. I gather then that loyal Tuza betrayed her new leader, as she and Darla did Donna, their former leader.” She then turned to Emerald and Hiza. “And you,” she said, “stood by while I was deposed, just as, I would suppose, you did when noble Tuza put noble Darla aside, even to chains.”

“We could not interfere,” said Emerald. “Darla and Tuza are stronger, quicker. They would kill us.”

“Tuza drugged Darla,” said Hiza.

“What a brave way to challenge for leadership,” said Donna. “Are javelins in the forest no longer in order; are sticks no longer available to draw a killing circle, a circle of decision, in the camp?”

“Away, slave!” said Tuza.

“You are in the presence of free persons,” screamed Darla. “Kneel, as befits a slave!”

But Donna remained on her feet. “This is Tuza’s switch,” she said. “I remember it well. I felt it often enough on the trek to the selling poles.”

“She does not kneel,” said Tuza, frightened.

“She is to be freed, for finding us,” Darla whispered.

“It is her reward,” said Tuza.

“Of course,” said Darla.

At that point the leader gave a great laugh, and stepped forward. He put out his hand and Donna immediately surrendered the switch to him, and knelt at his side.

“Do you wish to be freed?” he asked, looking down at her, possessively.

“No, Master,” she said. “Please do not free me!”

“Have no fear,” he said.

“Would you free me, Master,” she asked, “if I begged to be freed?”

“No,” he said.

“Good,” she said.

“You are too beautiful, too exciting, too desirable, to be freed,” he said.

“I hope to please my master,” she said.

She then held his leg, and licked his thigh.

“Slave!” said Tuza.

“Disgusting!” said Darla.

“I am a slave,” she said. “It fulfills me to lick my master’s thigh.”

“Yes,” whispered Emerald, softly.

“Who knows,” said Donna to Tuza and Darla, “the time may come when you two will beg to lick a master’s thigh.”

Emerald moaned, softly.

“What is wrong with you?” Hiza asked Emerald.

“Do not be concerned, Hiza,” said Donna. “There is a nice turn to your belly, and, in time, your hair will grow out.”

“I cut it short!” she said.

“Who knows?” said Donna. “A master might not permit that.”

Hiza shrank back a bit in her bonds, and pulled at the laces confining her wrists behind her back.

“Perhaps,” said Donna, “you will long for longer hair, that you may be more pleasing to him.”

The leader then motioned that Donna should rise. She did so. He then returned the switch to her.

This was regarded with some apprehension by the prisoners, as the switch may easily be taken not simply as an instrument of improvement, and such, but a symbol of authority.

“Put them in close shackles,” said the leader, “and then free their hands. Keep the rope on their necks. If they attempt to remove it, cut off their hands.”

Shortly thereafter the ankles of each prisoner had been shackled. The play of chain would allow them only small steps. Their hands were then freed. They remained kneeling, in coffle.

Donna stood over them, switch in hand.

“Do you think it wise,” said Tuza, rubbing her wrists, “that we should be granted such freedom? We are Panther Women.”

“Do you still think you are Panther Women?” asked Donna.

“Of course,” said Tuza.

“Interesting,” said Donna.

“Are we not?” asked Tuza.

“No,” said Donna.

“You would dare to grant us the freedom of our hands?” said Tuza.

“Yes,” said Donna.

“But why?” asked Tuza.

“That you might busy yourselves about the camp,” she said.

“I do not understand,” said Tuza.

“There are many things to do,” said Donna. “Water is to be fetched, berries are to be picked, wood is to be gathered, the fire is to be tended, meals are to be prepared, the camp is to be tidied, soft boughs are to be gathered for the men to recline upon, many things.”

“You cannot be serious,” said Tuza.

“We are free women,” said Darla.

“We dare not go into the forest shackled, naked, and unarmed,” said Tuza. “There are wild tarsk, sleen, forest bosk, panthers!”

“A man will accompany you,” said Donna. “He will protect you. Your lives will be in his hands, completely.”

“Give us clothing,” said Tuza. “Men look upon us with impunity.”

“It is much like being a slave, is it not?” asked Donna.

“Give us back at least the shreds of our forest raiment, that it be resewn, that we may be covered,” said Darla.

“You would be again presumptuously and arrogantly garmented in the skins of beasts, as though you were men, proud hunters and rovers?” said Donna.

“Please,” said Tuza.

“You are no longer entitled to such pretenses and posturings,” said Donna. “Your garmenture henceforth, if garmenture is permitted to you, will be in accord with your sex.”

“Not the bundling absurdities inflicted on allegedly free women!” said Tuza.

“No!” cried Darla. “You would not dare to put us in such degrading garments, so enveloping, so cumbersome, so abundant, so hobbling, so layered, with hoods and veils, the garments of small, soft creatures of interest to men, educated, perfumed, pampered, and refined, meaningless, weak little animals, conforming little animals, mindlessly trapped in the cages of convention.”

“When such come to us, we sell them,” scoffed Tuza.

“Men like them,” said Darla. “They crawl nicely under the whip. They are pretty in chains.”

“They are not large, strong, hard, and coarse,” said Tuza.

“Do you think me hard and coarse?” asked Donna.

“No longer,” said Tuza, scornfully. “Now you are soft!”

“I like being soft,” said Donna.

“Slave!” said Tuza.

“And you, too, are soft,” said Donna.

“No!” said Tuza and Darla.

“Regard yourself in a mirror, your reflection in still water,” said Donna.

“Do not put us in the garmenture of the women of the cities,” said Tuza.

“We will not wear such degrading, colorful, cumbersome, lengthy, inhibiting, silken things, the vanities and affectations of weak, meaningless women,” said Darla.

“Then, go naked,” said Donna.

“No!” wept Tuza.

“We might wear such things, perhaps for a time!” said Darla.

“Surely,” laughed Donna, “you do not think we carry about the wardrobes of free women in the forest.”

“Cruel slave!” said Tuza.

“Such things were never an option,” wept Darla.

“Certainly not,” said Donna.

“You are clothed!” said Tuza.

“If you can call it that,” said Darla.

“My master has permitted it,” said Donna. “Do you like it? Is it not attractive? It is easy to move in such a garment.”

“It is scarcely a scrap of cloth,” said Tuza.

“It is enough for me,” said Donna. “It is appropriate for me. I am a slave.”

“Clothe us!” begged Tuza.

“With what?” asked Donna.

Tuza, turning, on her knees, pointed to us. “There!” she said.

“But there are only three tunics there,” she said.

“One for me,” said Tuza, “one for Darla, and let Emerald and Hiza cast a moistened pebble for the last.”

“You would be willing to wear the rags of slaves?” asked Donna.

I doubt that Tula and Mila, any more than I, were pleased at this turn of discourse. Perhaps slaves are not permitted modesty, but few of us are without it. It is perhaps a bit like curiosity, which is supposedly unbecoming to a kajira, but who of us is without it? Certainly few of us would relish public nudity. Indeed, that is sometimes used as a discipline, sending us on errands so, and such. Our garmenture is precious to us, and we strive to be worthy of it. Indeed, Gorean slaves, even pleasure slaves, are often clothed far more modestly than many free women of my former world. Much of this is cultural, of course. A simple example would be veiling. Statistically, few women on my former world veil their features, but, on Gor, free women, particularly of upper caste, commonly veil themselves in public. On Gor a woman’s lips are commonly regarded as sexually stimulatory. Thus veiling is common. On the other hand, slaves are not permitted veiling. They may not conceal their lips. Their lips, in all their erotic provocativeness, are to be publicly visible. They are slaves. Interestingly, nudity is not that unusual on Gor amongst manual laborers on hot days. It is more familiar than, and one thinks less of it than, the occasional, usually rare, public nudity of female slaves. Even paga girls are normally clothed, save in the alcoves. In private, in the confines of her master’s domicile, of course, the slave may or may not be clothed. Some masters like to have a slave clothed, and others not. If she is clothed, of course, then the master may have the pleasure of removing the clothing. My own tunic, for example, like many, had a disrobing loop at its left shoulder. This is convenient for most men, as they are right-handed. Others, it seems, enjoy seeing their property about, clad only in its collar.