The Usurper (18 page)

The relation of female to female within a single species is interesting, human female to human female, Herul female to Herul female, with respect to intraspecific competitions, for example, with respect to attractiveness, prestige, status, appeal to males, mate acquisition, and such. Along these lines, within the human species, the free woman commonly resents, and, I fear, is jealous of, the interest of the males of her species in female slaves, whom they may buy, own, and use for their pleasure, and, I suspect, resents, and, I fear, is jealous of, the fulfillments and joys of the owned, mastered slave, she lovingly, content, wholly surrendered and submitted, at her Master's feet. Then, when dealing with the possible interactions of females of diverse species, not those without commonalities, as, say, those of female pigs and female
filchen
, but those where some commonalities are involved, for example, speech, rationality, sexual dimorphism, paired appendages, and such, as in the case of humans and Heruls, the natural contempt which, say, a Herul female might feel for a human female can be exacerbated, as was the case with Borchu, by a recognition that Herul males occasionally find the small, soft, well-curved, smooth-skinned bodies of their human female slaves, however surprisingly or peculiarly, of sexual interest. Thus, in such a case, the natural contempt of the Herul female for the human female, which she regards as a despicably inferior sort of thing, rather as she might regard a pig as a despicably inferior sort of thing, is upon occasion, as it was with Borchu, somewhat intensified, if not multiplied exponentially.

From her position, Cornhair could look to her right, and see the wide, dusty expanse about which the wagons were arranged. Somewhere, she knew, at least one wagon was moved aside, to leave an opening. This arrangement, a wagon gate, makes it possible for armed men to issue forth from any part of the camp, perhaps unnoted from a given direction. It also makes it possible, if several wagons are moved simultaneously, for a large number of men to pour suddenly, perhaps unexpectedly, into the field, an advantage not obtaining with fixed walls and a gate or gates which might be kept under surveillance. There were women and children in sight, some six horses, tethered, a slave, yoked, carrying water to a trough, in two metal pails, doubtless from Venitzia; and another slave tending to a large, camp kettle, of which several could be seen, slung on their iron racks. It took four men to lift some of the camp kettles. Most slaves would be out, somewhere, under the supervision of free women, picking
hineen
, using their lifted skirts as baskets. In two places Herul men were sitting, cross-legged, facing one another, playing with marked bones, these cast on a blanket between them. Herul men did not attend to camp matters, save for such things as the repair and decoration of the large, colorful, enclosed wagons, like houses on wheels. They tended cattle and horses; taught boys riding and weapons, primarily the bow and lance; hunted, and, as the occasion arose, did war. Occasionally they raided other Herul camps, for horses and women. Beyond the wagons to her right, to the east, she could see, in the far distance, some of the snow-capped heights of the Barrionuevo Range. She looked to her left; somewhere to her left, far off, would be the Lothar River. To the north and south, bending in the wind, were seemingly endless waves of grass. She drew back, further, under the wagon. One of the large, maned dogs was watching her. She would not reach toward it, lest her hand be snapped off. Heruls use dogs to herd cattle, horses, prisoners, and slaves. The dog growled and moved away.

Cornhair was hungry.

She was often hungry in the Herul camp.

She had crawled to Borchu yesterday evening, begging to be put to work, that she might be fed, but Borchu, the Herul female into whose care she had been placed, had declined to offer her work. White Ankles, her arms in the wooden washing pail submerged to her elbows, had smiled, washing Borchu's hose. She had begged Borchu to cast her even a scrap of garbage, but Borchu, instead, had switched her, reminding her that one such as she, a worthless camp slave, was not to be fed for nothing. One such as she must earn her food. She had then hung about the camp kettles, until she, with some dogs, had been driven away by the Herul women. She had fled, weeping. The supple branch had muchly stung. The life of she who had once been the rich and spoiled Lady Publennia Calasalia, of the Larial Calasalii, of the
honestori
, of the patricians, even of the senatorial class, had muchly changed. She who had squandered property was now herself property; her silks had been exchanged for coarse cloth, her jewels for a slave bell locked on her neck. Most devastatingly, she had been marked; on her left thigh, high, under the hip, fixed in place, burned in, was the small, lovely slave rose. She well knew its meaning, and so would others, within the empire, and elsewhere. She was goods, a slave.

The men were mostly out with the herds. Many left early in the morning, to return at dusk, passing others who were then leaving the camp, who, in turn, would return to the wagons near dawn.

A slave such as Cornhair, a camp slave, was more likely to be fed by the Herul men than the Herul women. One might always beg to braid a rope, which might be used to bind them; to smooth out the fur of a fellow's boots with teeth and tongue, to rub down saddles, to polish accouterments, and such. And sometimes they had made her remove her clothes, and perform the “pleading dance” of the female slave. In the empire, there were many “pleading dances,” pleadings to be spared, to be permitted to live, sometimes permitted to female captives, pleadings to be forgiven, pleadings not to be whipped, pleadings to be retained by a Master considering her sale, pleadings to be fed, pleadings for sexual attention and sexual gratification, and such. Among the Heruls, the pleading dances of human females were usually pleadings to be fed. Needless to say, it is one thing for a human female to perform a pleading dance before Heruls who, for the most part, regard her as an alien life form, and quite another to perform such a dance before free males of her own species. The common outcome of such a dance before males of her own species is that she will be dragged away from the fire, into the darkness, usually by the hair, and reminded of what it is to be a slave in the arms of a Master. Such dances are often performed on the slave block, to intensify bids. Many slave houses, naturally, provide instruction in such dances, and several others, and woe to the slave who does not learn them well. In such dance, she is to transform herself into an unabashed, shameless, lascivious object of desire. Such dance well impresses upon her that she is a slave, and only that. Too, such dance has its effect not only upon Masters, but upon the slave herself, such that she is now likely to beg for their touch, that they may relieve her inevitably aroused needs. A trained slave, too, of course, is likely to bring more on the block. So, as would be expected, dance, slave dance, of course, constitutes an integral portion of a slave's curriculum. This is natural, as it is the very
raison d'être
, the very reason for being, of the slave to serve men, and provide them with great pleasure. That is what she is for. Sometimes the Heruls would have the human female slaves remove their clothing, and roll about, twisting, and squirming, on the ground. The point of this, for the Heruls, at least commonly, seems to have little or nothing to do with the girls, for they are, after all, slaves, but seems rather to have more to do with some sort of satisfaction they derive from having the women of the enemy at their feet, obedient and prostrate. On the other hand, from their point of view, the exhibition of diverse forms of plunder, say, gold and silver vessels, marble statuary, jewels, paintings, rich, well-woven carpets, and such, would serve much the same purpose, an exhibition of acquired goods, preferably taken from enemies. A visiting Otung, for example, a merchant, ambassador, or such, treated by Heruls to such an exhibition, is less likely to be humiliated or insulted, as to be pleased, as the women are slaves. Indeed he may appreciate the matter as a spectacle thoughtfully presented for his entertainment. On the other hand, should this behavior be inflicted on a free woman, blood might be shed. Lesser things have initiated raids, even wars.

Cornhair, crouching under the wagon, pondered approaching the men who were intent on their gambling. They might not wish to be interrupted. But she was very hungry.

“See! See!” cried White Ankles. “There, hiding under the wagon!”

“Come out, Cornhair!” screamed Borchu.

Miserable, and trembling, Cornhair crawled out from under the wagon, the slave bell clanking, and put herself to her belly before Borchu.

“I told her you wanted to see her!” said White Ankles. “She did not rush to the wagon! She dallied! She hid herself!”

“No, no, Noble Mistress,” said Cornhair. “I knew nothing of your pleasure!”

“Liar, liar!” cried White Ankles.

“No!” wept Cornhair.

“Which of you is lying?” asked Borchu.

“Cornhair!” cried White Ankles.

“White Ankles!” cried Cornhair.

“You are both filthy pigs, both liars!” said Borchu.

“No!” said White Ankles.

“No!” said Cornhair.

“Kneel up, look at me!” said Borchu, and Cornhair rose to her knees, but feared to look into that narrow, long, scaled face. The eyes were round and bright. The head was smooth, oval, and elongated, the nostrils no more than a pair of holes in the face. No ears were visible, but there were two holes, listening holes, one on each side of the head. The eyesight of Heruls was much akin to that of humans. Their hearing and sense of smell seems to have been more acute.

Borchu adjusted Cornhair's head with her switch, so that it was lifted and looking up at her.

Cornhair's neck hurt.

“How ugly humans are,” said Borchu.

Why, one wonders, would this have been of interest to Borchu?

Notions of beauty, one supposes, would tend to vary from species to species, naturally enough, as most humans would not bid avidly for most female Heruls, nor would most Heruls risk a dozen hides for most human females, but, one supposes, attractiveness and beauty are not always a matter of idiosyncratic species preference. For example, both Heruls and humans might respond to the glory of grass, to the ruggedness of mountains, to the force of rushing streams, to the turbulence of clouds, to the rhapsody of a sunset, to the unsheathing of the cold knife of dawn. Do not Heruls and humans both see beauty in the dog and wolf, in the bull and horse, in the vi-cat and hawk? And certainly, as we have noted, some Herul males have viewed certain of their human properties with interests transcending those of a purely utilitarian nature.

Borchu, it must be confessed, had not been much sought for by male Heruls, with seeding in mind.

“Get your clothes off, pig,” said Borchu to Cornhair.

“Please do not beat me!” said Cornhair.

“Now, pig!” said Borchu.

White Ankles laughed.

Cornhair now wore but her slave bell.

“White Ankles,” snapped Borchu, “remove your waist cord, and bind the wrists of Cornhair together, and then take her to the wagon wheel, put her on her knees, and tie her wrists to a spoke.”

“Please, no, Mistress!” said Cornhair.

“Yes, Mistress,” said White Ankles, untying her waist cord, and hurrying to Cornhair.

Shortly thereafter Cornhair faced the wagon wheel, on her knees, her wrists tied to a spoke.

She looked behind her, terrified, but saw no hint of mercy in the visage of her custodian.

“May I beat her?” inquired White Ankles.

“Perhaps it is you who are the liar,” said Borchu.

“No, Noble Mistress!” said White Ankles.

“Fetch me the waist cord from the dress of Cornhair,” said Borchu.

Swiftly, White Ankles complied.

The waist cord on the dress of a slave is such that, by intention, the slave may be bound with it. Commonly it encircles the waist twice, snugly, and is tied at the left hip, as most Masters are right-handed. This is a common feature of many slave garments, on many worlds. There seems to be three aspects to this practice; first, as a utilitarian measure, the slave may be conveniently rendered helpless, bound, hand and foot; second, carrying her bond about her body, knotted, reminds the slave of her helplessness, her vulnerability, and bondage; and, thirdly, as her figure is emphasized, attention is called to the fact that she is a sexual creature, no longer secretly and shamefully, but now openly and unapologetically, essentially and radically. Let free women pretend what they wish and deny what they will; such privileges are theirs; they are not permitted to the most female of all women, the female slave. Let them not deny their sexuality; that would be farcical in the case of a slave; it is that for which they are purchased. The slave quickly learns the meaning of her collar, which, to her joy and gratitude, frees her to be herself. Perhaps it is little wonder that free women so hate and envy them.

“Mistress?” said White Ankles.

“Remove your clothing, pig,” said Borchu. “Kneel before me, your head down, your arms lifted, your wrists crossed!”

“Please, no, Noble Mistress!” wept White Ankles, but she hastened to obey. In moments, head down, she could see only the dirt before her. She also felt her small wrists tied together, closely.

Moments later White Ankles was on her knees, beside Cornhair, the large, painted hub of the wheel between them, the wrists of each bound to a spoke.

“Confess!” begged White Ankles. “Tell the noble Mistress I told you she wished to see you!”

“You told me nothing!” said Cornhair.

“She is lying Noble Mistress,” cried White Ankles over her shoulder.

“Who is lying?” inquired Borchu.

“Cornhair!” cried White Ankles.

“White Ankles!” cried Cornhair.

“I will beat both,” said Borchu. “I am thus assured the guilty one is punished.”

“I will tear out your hair! I will scratch your eyes out!” cried White Ankles to Cornhair, pulling at her wrists.