Kajira of Gor (47 page)

to attend to my duties!”

“I did not realize one serving slave was so significant,” he said, amused.

“They like to have a full complement of slaves on hand,” I assured him. “If I

were to be sold to you, they would have sent out an extra girl, an addition to

my group.”

“And so they have,” he said, smiling, “though separately, as I requested. Her

name is Emily. Perhaps you know her?”

“I looked’ at him, aghast.

“Do you know her?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” I said. “She was trained in the cycle after mine. Apparently they

have now transferred her to my group.

“Doubtless as your replacement,” he grinned.

“Yes, Master,” I whispered. I looked at him. “’Then I belong to you, truly?” I

asked.

“Yes,” he said, “every inch, every hair, every freckle, every drop of sweat,

every drop of intimate oil.”

I shuddered.

“Here is your new collar,” he said, displaying it for me. “Isn’t it lovely?”

“Yes, Master,” I said. It was an attractive collar of gleaming steel, with a

sturdy, heavy lock at the back. In it I would be marked as well, and confined as

efficiently as I had been by the collar of Aemilianus.

“See here?” he asked. “ ‘I am the property of Miles of Argentum,’” he read.

“Yes, Master,” I said, miserably

“Lift your chin,” he said.

I did so.

He then snapped the collar about my throat. I wore the collar, then, of Miles of

Argentum.

“It is a perfect fit,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“It is the same size as the other collar,” he said. “I had your collar size from

the Enterprises of Aemilianus.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“You do not seem pleased,” he said. “I do not understand that. I thought you

would be overjoyed.”

“I am overjoyed, Master,” I whispered.

“Good,” he said. “I like my girls to be happy.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“I paid fifteen silver tarsks for you,” he said.

I was startled. “That is too high a price for me,’ I said.

“I do not think so,” be smiled.

“I am not worth anything like that,” I said. For such a price one might get a

fine dancer. Some of the lesser girls in a Ubar’s pleasure gardens might not

have cost so much.

“You are to me,” he said.

“I will endeavor to see that you get your money’s worth,” I said.

“Have no fear,” he said. “I will.”

I began to tremble, uncontrollably. He freed my left ankle of its shackle, that

which had fastened me to the slave ring.

“Stand,” he said. I stood.

“You are not very tall, are you?” he said. “No, Master,” I said.

“But you are well curved,” he said.

“Perhaps, Master,” I said. “Thank you, Master.”

“This is the key to your slave bracelets,” he said. He showed me a key, on a

string. He slung the string over my head and, by it, hung the key about my neck.

It fell between my breasts. Much good it did me. I could not reach it with my

braceleted hands.

“I am going to turn you over now to Krotidos, my slave master,” he said. “You

will find him a kindly and fair man. On the other hand, your least imperfection

in either discipline or service will be severely and promptly punished.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“As I am an indulgent master,” he said, “you will be accorded clothing from your

first day in my ownership.”

“Master is generous,” I said. I was not speaking ironically. Sometimes a girl,

particularly a new girl, must strive for days to earn even a narrow strip of

cloth and a piece of string.

“It will be a tunic appropriate to the girls of Miles of Argentum,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” I said. He was a soldier. He probably would have a distinctive

tunic, in effect, a uniform, for his females. I had no doubt, too, he being a

soldier, that it would display us well.

“Clothing privileges, of course, may be quickly revoked,” he said.

“Of course, Master,” I said.

“You look well,” he said, “my former regal slut, now reduced to total slavery,

naked and in slave bracelets.”

“No,” I whimpered. “No, no.” I shook my head, helplessly, trying to deny his

accusation.

“To my lips,” he commanded.

I fled to him, and kissed him, deeply, as a slave. I drew back. I saw that I had

kissed him too well. “No, no,” I whimpered.

He took me by the upper arms and, thrusting me from behind forced me across the

room. He then put me over one of the large chests at the side of the room. I

felt the wood of the chest, and the iron bands. The key about my neck, on its

string, made a small sound as it struck the wood.

“It is not my fault if I bear a resemblance to Sheila, the Tatrix of Corcyrus,”

I said.

“You kissed well,” he said.

“Oh!” I cried, entered.

“Very well,” he said.

“Thank you, Master,” I moaned. Sometimes a slave girl does not understand the

incredible power she exerts over men, what she can do to them with a kiss, with

a glance, with a smile, a gesture, a touch. My wrists twisted helplessly in the

slave bracelets.

“I cannot help it if I resemble her!” I said.

“You do more than resemble her,” he said.

“Master?” I cried.

“You were she,” he said.

“No, no!” I cried.

“We do not wish to keep Krondos waiting, do we?” he asked.

“No, Master,” I moaned. “Of course not!”

“I have discussed your work schedules with him,” he said. “You will be worked

hard for some five Ahn a day. Your tasks will be such things as laundering,

scrubbing floors, and working in the kitchens. These seem suitable tasks for the

former Tatrix of Corcyrus. Do you not think so?”

“Yes, Master,” I moaned. “Oh, Master!”

“You respond well,” he said. “I always thought you were a slave.”

“Yes, Master,” I sobbed.

“During most of the day,” he said, “you will have the run of the palace and the

grounds.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

32
   
The Throne Room

The throne room in the palace at Argentum was now cool and dark. I entered,

fearfully, a slave girl frightened to be in such a place. It had a lofty

ceiling. I walked barefoot on the tiles to the vicinity of the dais and throne.

I turned, suddenly, fearfully, as the door closed behind me. I could not see, in

the shadows, who had shut it.

“Master?” I asked. I knelt, not knowing what else to do. This was the afternoon

of the day of the great feast, that for which, purportedly, feast slaves had

been brought even from Ar. No longer now, of course, was I a feast slave. I was

now a work slave and pleasure slave owned by Miles of Argenturn. Tonight, at the

feast, I was to be presented naked and in chains to Claudius, the Uber of

Argentum, and the council. I looked up, toward the ceiling. Suspended there,

some forty feet from the floor, on a long rope, almost lost in the shadows, was

a golden sack. The sack, weighted, hung heavily on the taut rope. Sometimes,

with a creak of rope, it swung slightly. I was reminded of an almost immobile

pendulum.

I heard a sound in the shadows, near the door. I looked quickly in that

direction.

I could see nothing in the darkness.

“Master?” I called.

A girl had told me that I was to report to the throne room. She was conveying

this message on behalf of a free man. She did not recognize him. Ile had seemed

important, authoritative. As she had hesitated to obey him, in relaying his

message, so, too, I would not hesitate to obey him, in complying with it.

Neither of us could guess his office or status. That he was within the palace,

however, a free man, clearly suggested to us his possession of some privilege or

power. As we were slaves, we obeyed. The man had been described to me by the

girl, who had seemed shaken by her encounter with him, merely as one who was

obviously a natural master of women such as we, slaves.

I could see him now, dimly, in the shadows, as my eyes adjusted to the light. He

was standing near the door. He was a large man. “Head down,” he said, “palms on

the floor.”

I immediately assumed this position. The voice sounded familiar, but I could not

place it. It sounded, too, somewhat tense or feigned. I wondered if that were

its natural sound, or if it were being disguised.

I heard steps coming around behind me. Then, from behind, my head was pulled up,

by the hair.

I now knelt, with my back straight. My tunic, then, the tunic of Miles of

Argentum, that brief, trim tunic, of brown, trimmed with yellow with the

plunging neckline, and slit at the sides to the rib stripped away from me, from

the back.

My hands then, with two loops of a thong, were tied be-hind me.

“Master?” I begged. Then I could not speak. A heavy wadding was thrust into my

mouth and secured there with a folded strip of cloth, drawn deeply back between

my teeth, knotted tightly behind the back of my neck.

was then turned about and put on my back before my captor, on the tiles at the

foot of the dais on which reposed the throne of Argentum.

I squirmed in terror. I uttered muted, tiny sounds.

“Yes,” said he. “it is I, Ligurious, once first minister of Corcyrus.”

I looked up at him, in terror.

“I, and two others,” he said, “escaped the raid in Ar.” I recalled I had heard

swordplay, and the crashing of glass. “I see that you are now a branded,

collared slave,” he said. “It is appropriate. That is not the major or primary

reason you were brought to Gor, but it was the minor or secondary reason You

were destined, from the beginning, if not for the impaling spear, then,

eventually, for the collar.”

I looked up at him, terrified, over the gag, naked and helplessly bound before

him.

“You are a natural slave,” he said. “Perhaps you know that by now. The brand and

collar are perfect on you. You are a thousand times more beautiful as a slave

than you were as a free woman.”

I squirmed, his bound prisoner.

“I wonder how you escaped from the camp of Miles of Argentum,” he said. “You

certainly upset our plans in that particular. We had not even considered the

possibility of such thing. But it seems that now the former Miss Collins of

Earth may yet prove useful in our plans.”

I uttered tiny, helpless sounds.

“I have not been captured,” said Ligurious, “nor have I entered the palace

surreptitiously. I am here of my own will. I return for immunity I have

volunteered to give evidence for the state of Argentum in the identification of

the Tatrix of Corcyrus. Who would know her better than I? My two retainers,

those two of all the others who have remained faithful, and with me, those who

escaped with me from the house in Ar, have been entered into the palace in the

guise of envoys from distant Tuna. As I will have my business here, So too, will

they have theirs. There is some dispute, you see, a to who is the true Tatrix of

Corcyrus, she who is eve now suspended in the golden sack near the ceiling in

this very room, or yourself, helpless now before me on the tile Witnesses will

give testimony. Drusus Rencius, for example has come here from Ar. He will

doubtless identify you as the true Tatrix, as he did before. We saw to it that

he, like several others, knew only you as the Tatrix. Similarly I had had

clothing smuggled out of Corcyrus, clothing which you wore. This will be

presented to Claudius, the Ubar, and the high council, as the clothing of the

Tatrix of Coreyrus, it will be identified as the former wearer of the clothing,

course, by sleen. The work of Claudius and the high council of course, will be

made somewhat easier by the fact the when the golden sack is opened at the

banquet it will be Occupied not by the true Sheila, but by you, her dupe and

double. We will not encounter objections by Hassan, the Slave Hunter, as he will

not appear at the banquet. My two men will see to it that he is detained.

Similarly, objections will not be encountered by Miles of Argentum. He will

receive formation, purportedly from Hassan, that he had the wrong girl and that

you, as he now recognizes, are the true Tatrix Accordingly he has placed you in

the sack and, in his embarrassment, and fearing a loss of honor, has left the

palace, ta mg the other girl with him, she then to be consigned to sor suitable

slavery or other. In this fashion we expect Miles Argentum to be satisfied. He,

in any case, is convinced, you probably know, that it is you, and not the other

woman who is the Tatrix. This, of course, is because we saw to it that he, like

certain others, would know only you as the Tatrix. He will identify you as the

true Tatrix, for be knows you as such, with the same conviction as Drusus

Rencius, and others. All this is in accord with our plans. And, of course, I

too, shall identify you as the true Tatrix. You may depend on it. Meanwhile, of

course, the true Sheila will be concealed in my quarters, later to be smuggled

from the palace in the guise of a free woman, that of a companion of one of my

retainers, supposedly an envoy from Tuna. The slave brought in with him in this

role, put back in proper slave garb, has already been sold to an officer in the

palace guard. He could not resist the superb price on her.”

There were tears in my eyes. I pulled futilely against the thongs on my wrists.