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Authors: John Norman

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Vagabonds of Gor

BOOK: Vagabonds of Gor
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Note from the proofreader:

 

I don't have access to a hardcopy of this book, and thus couldn't refer to the original text while working. The original scan file contained many hundreds of errors that were easy to correct even without a hard copy - obvious mispellings, common OCR errors, repeated words, etc. I was able to dramatically improve the file, but...sometimes you just need to look at the original.

 

I inserted the symbol "#" in the text at places where something seems wrong that I just can't be sure how to correct. Some of the "#"s probably mark missing blocks - a word, a few lines, or even whole pages. Sometimes I have speculatively inserted single words that seem to correct a rough spot, but have always marked such additions with "#" for later confirmation or correction.

 

For easier reading, you might want to do a global find/replace of "#" with "". However, please don't repost such a version, unless you can check against the original text and either fix the rough spots, or confirm that the text is correct as given.

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Vagabonds of Gor (etext v2.0, proofread)

 

John Norman

 

Chronicles of Counter-Earth Volume 24

 

Chapter 1 - A FEMALE SLAVE

 

"You were once the Lady Temione, were you not?" I inquired.

 

"Yes, Master," she said, lifting her head a little from the dirt, where, before me, in the camp of Cos, on the south bank of the Vosk, north of Holmesk, she knelt, head down, the palms of her hands on the ground.

 

"Lie on your right side before me," I said, "extending your left leg."

 

She did so. In this way, the bit of silk she wore fell to the right, displaying the line of her hip, thigh and calf. I saw the brand, tiny and tasteful, yet unmistakable, fixed in her thigh, high, under the hip. It was the common kajira brand, the staff and fronds, beauty subject to discipline, worn by most female slaves on Gor. She had the toes of the left leg pointed, lusciously curving the calf. I saw that she had had some training.

 

"You may resume your original position," I said.

 

She returned to it, a common position of slave obeisance.

 

I noted that her hair had grown out somewhat, in the weeks since I had last seen her, a free woman on the chain of Ephialtes, a sutler whom I had met at the inn of the Crooked Tarn, on the Vosk Road. He had been kind enough to act as my agent in certain matters.

 

"Tell me of matters since last we met," I suggested.

 

"It was at the Crooked Tarn, was it not?" she asked.

 

"Perhaps," I said.

 

"Or was it in the camp of Cos, near Ar's Station?" she asked.

 

"Perhaps," I said.

 

"I with others was once there blindfolded, and displayed," she said.

 

"Oh?" I said.

 

"Yes," she said.

 

"Speak," I said.

 

"As master recalls," she said. "I was detained at the Crooked Tarn, as a debtor slut."

 

"Yes," I said.

 

"And forced to earn my keep." she said.

 

"Yes," I said.

 

Her use had cost me a tarsk bit. Had I had a slave sent to my "space" it would have cost me three full copper tarsks, for only a quarter of an Ahn. I had had her for a full Ahn, for the tarsk bit. That was, because, at that time, she had been free. She would be worth much more now, clearly.

 

I noted the collar on her neck, metal, close-fitting and locked. It was easy to see, even with her head down, because of the shortness of her hair. It had been shaved off some weeks ago by the keeper of the Crooked Tarn, to be sold as raw materials for catapult cordage. Women's hair, soft, glossy, silky and resilient, stronger than vegetable fibers and more weather resistant, well woven, is ideal for such a purpose.

 

The concept of "earning one's keep," in one sense, a strict legal sense, is more appropriate to a free woman than a slave. The slave, for example, cannot earn anything in her own name, or for herself, but only, like other domestic animals, for her master. To be sure, in another sense, a very practical sense, no one "earns her keep" like the female slave. She earns it, and with a vengeance. The master sees to it. The sense of "earning her keep" of which the former Lady Temione spoke was a rather special one. It was rather analogous to that of the slave, for, as I recalled, the keeper of the inn appropriated her earnings, ostensibly to defray the expenses of her keeping. A result of this, of course, was to make it impossible for her, by herself, to subtract as much as a tarsk bit from her redemption fee.

 

"In the morning, early, after the evening in which I had been carried, bound, to your space, to serve you, I, with other debtors - "

 

"'Debtor sluts'," I said.

 

"Yes, master," she said. "- were redeemed. We were overjoyed, thinking to be freed, but found to our dismay that we were put in coffle, to be taken northward on the Vosk Road to the vicinity of Ar's Station."

 

"I see," I said.

 

"But before our redemption our heads were shaved by the keeper, for catapult cordage."

 

"I saw the pelts on a rack, outside the inn," I said. Her hair had been a beautiful auburn. That hair color is popular on Gor. It brings a high price in slave markets.

 

"A man named Ephialtes, a sutler of Cos, paid our redemption fees."

 

"It was he, then, who redeemed you?" I asked.

 

"I do not think so, Master," she said.

 

"He was acting as an agent then?" I said.

 

"I think so, Master," she said. "Though apparently one with powers to buy and sell as he pleased."

 

"On behalf on his principal?" I asked.

 

"Doubtless, Master," she said.

 

"You may kneel back," I said.

 

She straightened up, and then knelt back on her heels, her knees wide, her hands on her thighs. I had not specified this position, one of the most common for a female pleasure slave but she had assumed it unquestioningly, appropriately. It had been a test. She had passed. It would not be necessary to cuff her.

 

I listened to the sounds of the Vosk River in the background. "Though we were free women, six of us, as you recall, including myself, we were apparently to be marched naked, chained by the neck, in coffle behind a sutler's wagon."

 

"You objected?" I inquired.

 

"I and another, Klio, perhaps you remember her, did."

 

"And what happened?" I asked.

 

"We were lashed," she said. "It was done by a terrible person, one named Liadne, put over us as first girl, though we were free and she a mere slave!"

 

I remembered Liadne. She was lovely. I had first met her under her master's wagon, shivering in a tarpaulin, in an icy storm. I had used her but had paid her master for her use, leaving a coin in her mouth. I had had Ephialtes, the sutler, purchase her in the morning. I had thought she would make an excellent first girl, to introduce her free sisters into some understanding of their womanhood.

 

"We were then obedient," said the girl.

 

I did not doubt but what Liadne would have kept them, arrogant, spoiled free women, under superb discipline. That had certainly been my impression, at any rate, when I had seen them lined up, kneeling, naked, coffled, and blind-folded, in the camp of Cos near Ar's Station.

 

"We were taken to the Cosian camp, near Ar's Station," she said. "There we were kept naked, in coffle, and under discipline. One morning we were displayed in blindfolds."

 

I had not wanted them to know, or at least to know for certain, that it was I who had redeemed them, not simply for the pleasure of it, but for my own purposes, as well. This was not that unusual. Captors do not always reveal their identities immediately to their captives. It is sometimes amusing to keep women in ignorance as to whose power it is, within which they lie. Let them consider the matter with anxiety. Let them speculate wildly, frenziedly, tearfully. It is then time enough to reveal oneself to them, perhaps confirming their worst fears.

 

"The next morning," she said, "when I awakened, two of our girls were gone, Elene and Klio, and there was a new girl, a slender, very beautiful girl, also free, like the rest of us, on the coffle."

 

"What was her name?" I asked.

 

" 'Phoebe'," she said.

 

"Tell me of her," I said.

 

"She wore her collar and chain lovingly and well, most beautifully," she said. "She obeyed Liadne from the first, immediately, spontaneously, intuitively, naturally, with timidity, and perfection. It was as though she intuitively understood authority and her own rightful subjection to it. Though this new girl, like the rest of us, save Liadne, was free, I think I had seldom seen a woman, so early in captivity, so ready, so ripe, for the truths of the collar."

 

"She had perhaps thought out those matters in the sweaty sheets of her own bed, for years," I said.

 

"As had certain others, too," smiled the girl, looking down.

 

"You are beautiful," I commented, regarding her face, and lineaments, in the light of the nearby fire.

 

"Thank you, Master," she whispered.

 

"Was this new girl proud?" I asked.

 

"I think only of such things as her capacity for love, and her bondage," she said.

 

"But you said she was free," I reminded her.

 

"Of her natural bondage," she smiled.

 

"She was not then, in a normal sense, proud?"

 

"Not in ways typical of a vain free woman, at any rate."

 

"But yet," I said, "this new girl, unlike the rest of you, was wearing a slave strip."

 

"Ah, Master," said the girl, "it is as I suspected. It is you who redeemed us."

 

"Of course," I said.

 

"The new girl would not speak the identity of her captor, but, I take it, it was you who brought her to the coffle of Ephialtes."

 

I nodded. I had, of course, warned Phoebe to silence, with respect to whose captive she was, as my business in the north, at least at that time, had been secret.

 

"Her docility on the chain, its beauty on her, her eagerness to obey, and such, suggested that it might have been you, or someone like you," she said.

 

I shrugged.

 

"And I thought it might have been you," she said, "from little things she would say, or knowing looks, or responses to our questions, or shy droppings of her gaze. In such ways can a woman speak, even when she is pretending not to. I think she was shyly eager to tell us all about you."

 

I nodded again. I was not unfamiliar with the small talk, the tiny riddles, the hints, the delights of conversing slaves. I had little doubt that Phoebe, and without too much provocation, might have revealed more of me, and of our relationship, and past, and such, than I would have approved of. She was marvelously feminine. It would not really do, of course, to whip her for such things, as she was free, and, even in the case of slaves, masters tend to be tolerant of such things. They make the girl so much more human.

 

"Was it you, too, who took Elene and Klio from the coffle?" she asked.

 

"Yes," I said.

 

"What did you do with them?" she asked.

 

"Did a slave ask permission to speak?" I asked.

 

"Forgive me, Master," she said.

 

"What is your name?" I asked.

 

BOOK: Vagabonds of Gor
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