Captive of Gor (8 page)

superior to me! To Elinor Brinton! I had seen that if I was to count with them I

would have to have qualities other than my beauty to comment me to them, as if I

were a (pg. 52) plain girl, who must cultivate other qualities, who must

struggle to be pleasing, rather than a beauty, whom others must strive to

please! The haughty bitches! I was superior to them all! I was more beautiful! I

was more rich! I hated them! I hated them!

But the important thing was that I was rescued, that I could soon buy my way

home to Earth.

Surely someone would be found, if not here, in the next city, who spoke English,

who could put me in contact with those from whom I might purchase passage in my

return to Earth.

The important thing was that I had been saved, that I was safe.

I had been rescued.

I began to find Targo odious.

Further, I did not care for my wrists being held by the two men, one on each

side.

I tried to pull my wrists away, angrily. I could not, of course, free myself.

I hated men, and their strength.

Targo himself had now grown more and more irritable.

“Let me go!” I cried. “Let me go!”

But I could not free myself.

Once again Targo tried to speak to me, patiently, slowly. I could tell that he

was growing furious.

He was a fool, such a tiresome fool. They were all fools. None of them seemed to

understand English. One, at least, of the men on the black ship had spoken

English. I had heard him converse with the large man. There must be many, then,

on this world, many!

I was tired of Targo.

“I do not understand you,” I told him, sounding out each word, with great

contempt and coldness. Then I looked away, loftily. I had put him in his place.

He said something to a subordinate.

Instantly I was stripped before him.

I screamed. The girls at the wagon tongue laughed.

“Kajira!” cried one of the men, pointing at my thigh.

Every inch of me blushed red.

(pg. 53) “Kajira!” laughed Targo. “Kajira!” laughed the others. I heard the

girls at the wagon tongue laughing, and clapping their hands.

Tears were running out of Targo’s eyes, tiny in the fat of his face.

Then, suddenly, he seemed angry.

He spoke again, sharply.

I was thrown forward on my face and stomach on the grass. The two men who had

been holding my wrists continued to do so, but they held them apart and over my

head, pressed down to the grass. Two other men came and held my ankles apart,

they, too, pressed down to the grass.

“Lana!” cried Targo.

One of the other men went to the wagon tongue. I could not see what he did

there. But I heard a girl laugh. In a moment she had left the wagon tongue and

was standing somewhere behind me.

I had been a spoiled, pampered child. The governesses and nurses who had raised

me had scolded me, and frequently, but they had never struck me. They would have

been dismissed immediately. In all my life I could not remember ever having been

struck.

Then I was whipped.

The girl struck, with her small fierce strength, again and again, over and over,

viscously, fiercely, as hard as she could, again and again. I cried out, and

screamed and sobbed, and struggled. The handful of slender leather straps was

merciless. I bit at the grass. I could not breathe. I could not see for tears.

Again and again! “Please stop!” I cried. But then I could cry out no longer.

There was only the grass and the tears and the pain of the straps, striking

again and again.

I suppose the beating lasted normally for only a few seconds, surely not for

more than a minute.

Targo said something to the girl, Lana, and the stinging rain of leather

stopped.

The two men at my ankles released them. The two men who held my wrists pulled me

up to my knees. I must have (pg. 54) been in shock. I could not focus my eyes. I

heard the girls laughing at the wagon tongue. I threw up on the grass. The men

pulled me away from where I had vomited and another, from behind, holding my

hair, pushed my face down to the ground, to the clean grass, and, turning my

head, wiped the vomit from my mouth and chin.

Then I was pulled again up and placed, on my knees, the men holding my wrists,

before Targo.

I looked up at him.

I saw that he now held my clothing in one hand. I scarcely recognized it. He was

looking down at me. In his other hand I saw, dangling, the handful of straps

with which I had been beaten. The girl was now being returned by one of the men

to her position at the wagon tongue. The entire back of my body, my legs, my

arms, my shoulders, was afire. I could not take my eyes from the straps.

The two men released my wrists.

“Kajira,” said Targo.

He lifted the straps.

I shook. I thrust my head to the grass at his feet.

I took his sandal in my hands and pressed my lips down on his foot, kissing it.

I heard laughter from the girls.

He must not have me beaten again!

I must please him.

I kissed his foot again, trembling, sobbing. He must be pleased with me, he must

be pleased with me!

I sobbed, raising my head and looking after him.

I was seized from behind by the two men who had held my wrists. I watched

Targo’s retreating back. I did not dare call out to him. he was no longer

interested in me. The two men dragged me to the wagon tongue.

There were ten girls on one side, nine on the other.

I saw the girl who had beaten me, Lana, some position ahead of me. I noted,

suddenly, that she was harnessed. There were buckled straps on her wrists,

fastening her in (pg. 55) place. And about her body, in a broad loop, passing

over her left shoulder and across her right hip, was a wide, heavy leather

strap, which was bolted into the wagon tongue. The other girls were similarly

fastened. Buckled straps were placed on her wrists, fastening her in place. And

about her body, in a broad loop, passing over her left shoulder and across her

right hip, was a wide, heavy leather strap, which was bolted into the wagon

tongue. The other girls were similarly fastened. Buckled straps were placed on

my wrists. Over my shoulder, about my body, was passed a heavy loop of leather.

I sobbed. I seemed scarcely able to stand. My legs trembled. The entire back of

my body stung terribly. I tasted my tears.

The man began to adjust the strap on my body.

Near me, across from me, a short girl, with dark hair, very red lips, and bright

dark eyes, smiled at me.

“Ute,” repeated the short, dark-haired girl, pointing to herself. Then she again

pointed at me. “La?” she asked.

I saw that the girls harnessed at the wagon tongue wore, on their left thighs,

the same make that I wore on mine.

I jerked at the straps on my wrists. I was secured.

“Ute,” repeated the short, dark-haired girl, pointing at herself. Then she again

pointed at me. “La?” she inquired.

The man cinched the strap on my body. It was snug. Then he stepped away from me.

I was harnessed.

“La?” persisted the dark-haired girl, pointing at me with her strapped hand.

“La?”

“Elinor,” I whispered.

“EL-in-or,” she repeated, smiling. Then, facing the other girls, she pointed at

me. “El-in-or,” she said, pleased. She seemed delighted.

For some reason, I was utterly grateful, that this short, lovely girl should be

pleased by my name.

Most of the other girls merely turned, and regarded me, not much interested. The

girl, Lana, who had beaten me, did not even turn. Her head was in the air.

Another girl, a tall, blondish girl, some two positions ahead of me and on my

left, smiled, “Inge,” she said, indicating herself.

I smiled.

Targo was now crying out orders. He was looking about, apprehensively.

One of his men shouted.

(pg. 56) The girls leaned forward into the traces, pulling at the wagon.

Two of his men thrust at the rear wheels.

The wagon began to move.

I leaned against the leather strap, pretending to pull. They did not need me to

pull the wagon. They had pulled it before. I dug my feet into the grass, as

though straining. I grunted a little, to add to the effect.

Ute, at my right, cast a glance, an unpleasant one. Her little body was

straining at the strap.

I did not care.

I cried out with pain, and humiliation, as the switch struck my body.

Ute laughed.

I threw all my weight against the strap, sobbing, pushing with all my might.

The wagon was moving now.

In a minute or so I saw the girl Lana switched, as I had been, below the small

of the back. She cried out with humiliation and pain, left with a stinging red

stripe. The other girls, I among them, laughed. I gathered Lana was not popular.

I was pleased that she, too, had been switched. She was a slacker! Why should

the rest of us pull of her? Was she better than we?

“Har-ta!” cried Targo. “Har-ta!”

“Har-ta!” cried the men about us.

The girls began to push harder. We strained, to increase the speed of the wagon.

From time to time the men would thrust, too, at the wheels.

We cried out with pain as two of the men, about the sides, one on each side,

encouraged us with their switches.

We could pull no harder. And yet we were struck. I dared not protest.

The wagon lumbered over the grassy fields.

Targo walked beside us. I would have thought he would have ridden in the wagon,

but he did not. He wanted it as light as it could be, even though it meant he,

the leader, must walk.

(pg. 57) How I dreaded it when he would cry “Har-ta!” for then we would be

switched again.

I sobbed in the straps, under the switch.

But I was Elinor Brinton, of park Avenue, of Earth! She had been rich,

beautiful, smartly attired, tasteful, sophisticated; she had been well educated

and traveled; she had been decisive, confident; she had carried her wealth and

her beauty with élan; and she had deserved her position in society; it had been

rightfully hers, for she had been gifted, high-order, superbly intelligent

individual, an altogether superior person! She deserved everything that she had

had! Whatever she had had she should have had, for she was that kind of person!

That was the kind of person she was!

I glanced at Ute.

She regarded me, unpleasantly. She had not forgotten that I had shirked. She

looked away, disgusted.

I was angry. I did not care. Who was she? A fool! On such a world as this it was

every girl for herself! Every girl for herself!

“Har-ta!” cried Targo.

“Har-ta!” cried the men about us.

We cried out again, stung by the switches. I threw my full weight against the

leather, digging my feet into the grass.

I sobbed.

I would not be permitted to shirk.

I had always had my way before, with both women and men. I could get extensions

for my term papers. I could get a new fur wrap, when I wished. When I tired of

one auto I would have another. I could always petition for what I wished, or

wheedle for it, or look sad, or pout. I would always get what I wished.

Here I did not have my way.

(pg. 58) Here I would not be permitted to shirk. The switch would see to that.

If there were those here who might wheedle, or have their way, it would be those

more beautiful, more pleasing than I. I would be expected. I realized, to my

fury, for the first time, to do my share.

The switch struck again and I wept.

Sobbing, crying out inwardly, I pushed against the broad leather strap with all

my might.

7
     
I, With Others, Am Taken Northward

(pg. 59) Targo, my master was a slaver.

I cost him nothing.

Shortly before he made me one of his girls, some two or three days before, he

had been attacked by outlaw tarnsmen, some four days journey north by northeast

from the city of Ko-ro-ba, which lies high in the northern temperate latitudes

of the planet Gor, which is the name of this world. He was bound, traveling over

the hills and meadowlands east and north of Ko-ro-ba, for the city of Laura,

which lies on the banks of the Laurius river, some two hundred pasangs inland

from the coast of the sea, called Thassa. Laura is a small trading city, a river

port, whose buildings are largely of wood, consisting mostly it seems of

warehouses and taverns. It is a clearing house for many goods, wood, salt, fish,

stone, fur and slaves. At the mouth of the Laurius, where it empties into

Thassa, is found the free port of Lydius, administered by the merchants, an

important Gorean caste. From Lydius goods may be embarked for the islands of

Thassa, such as Teletus, Hulneth and Asperiche, even Cos and Tyros, and the

coastal cities, such as Port Kar and Helmutsport, and, far to the south, Schendi

and Bazi. And, from Lydius, of course, goods of many sorts, though primarily

rough goods, such things as tools, crude metal and cloth, brought on barges,

towed by tharlarion treading on log roads, following the river, are brought to

Laura, for sale and distribution inland. The Laurius is a winding, long, gently,

slow river. It does not have the breadth and current which are the terrors of