Kajira of Gor coc-19

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Kajira of Gor coc-19 Page 20

by John Norman


  “Will we light the torch on the way home?” I asked.

  “I think it will be safer to move silently in the darkness,” said Drusus Rencius.

  “Perhaps you are right,” I said, shuddering.

  “Please follow me, a bit behind,” said Drusus Rencius. “I mean this as no insult to you.”

  “I understand,” I said. I certainly had no objections, under the circumstance, to heeling him like a slave.

  “Are you coming?” he asked. He turned about.

  “It is so dark,” I said.

  “I do not think it will be safe to remain here,” he said. “Try to follow me.”

  “I am afraid,” I said. I could not see my footing.

  “Do you wish for me to carry you?” he asked.

  “And how would you do that?” I asked, apprehensively.

  “In my arms, with honor,” he said. “Did you think I would throw you over my shoulder like a bound slave?”

  I was silent. How did I know how Drusus Rencius would carry a woman, particularly a woman such as I sensed I might be. I did know how the other fellow had carried me, over his shoulder, bound, absolutely helpless, perhaps, indeed, like a slave.

  “It would be better for you to walk,” said Drusus Rencius. “In that fashion my sword arm would be unencumbered.”

  “Are these streets not supposed to be patrolled by guardsmen?” I asked.

  “Most of the guardsmen,” said Drusus Rencius, “have been sent to the west, to the front.”

  I was silent.

  “The forces of Ar will be difficult to hold,” said Drusus Rencius.

  “Of Ar!” I said.

  “Yes,” said Drusus Rencius. “Forces of Ar entered the fray after the seizure of the mines. Argentum, as you know, is an ally of Ar.”

  I had not known this, basic though it might be. Many things, it seemed, had not been made clear to me. I did know that we were supposed to have strong ties of one sort or another with the island ubarate of Cos. Susan, I knew, had been bought in Cos. I knew almost nothing of Ar. I did know that Drusus Rencius had once been of that city. Too, I knew it was one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, city on Gor. In known Gor, it was rivaled only by Turia, in Gor’s southern hemisphere.

  “Our forces will be victorious,” I assured Drusus Rencius.

  “The enemy is already within twenty pasangs of Corcyrus,” he said.

  “Take me back to the palace,” I said, “swiftly, please.”

  “Yes, Lady Sheila,” he said.

  He then turned about, and started off, through the darkness. I hurried along behind him, heeling him like a slave.

  I felt miserable, and terrified and sick.

  In the palace I would be safe.

  Chapter 11 - SUSAN HAS BEEN BEATEN; LIGURIOUS SPEAKS WITH ME; THERE IS NOTHING TO FEAR; I AM SAFE IN THE PALACE

  I was thrust into my quarters by a guard, and the door was shut behind me.

  A lamp was lit in the room. I heard whimpering.

  “Susan!” I cried.

  The girl lay on her belly, naked on the tiles. Even the silken collar sheath, of one color or another, which was usually worn, selected to match a tunic, was gone. Her neck was encircled by the bared, unadorned steel alone. She had been terribly whipped. I knelt beside the girl. “The brutes!” I cried, softly. I touched her hair, gently. Tonight I knew she had danced the whip dance.

  “This was not done to me by guardsmen, Mistress,” she said. Then she began to sob.

  “By whom, then?” I demanded.

  “It was done to me by the slave master of Ligurious, on the orders of Ligurious,” she said.

  “But, why?” I asked.

  “Because I did not inform Ligurious that you had had Drusus Rencius summoned tonight to your quarters.”

  “How did he learn of this?” I asked.

  “Doubtless from a guard, and, too, that you had left the palace,” she said.

  “I am sorry, Susan,” I said. It had been I, I recalled, in the prosecution of my own plans, and in my desire for secrecy, who had suggested to Susan that the summoning of Drusus Rencius to my quarters need not be made known to Ligurious.

  “Why have you been put here?” I asked.

  “That you may see me, Mistress,” she sobbed.

  “It is all my fault,” I said.

  “No, Mistress,” she said. “It is my fault. I was not pleasing to my master.”

  Ligurious apparently had been disturbed, particularly that I had left the palace. He, with guardsmen, with lanterns, had met Drusus Rencius and I at the small postern gate in the east wall of the palace grounds, that through which we had returned. Drusus Rencius had been detained there, and I had been hurried to my quarters.

  There were suddenly two blows on the door, loud knocks. “Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus,” announced a guard, from the other side of the door.

  I stood up, and went to the center of the room. I tried to stand very straight, very regally.

  “Enter,” I said.

  Ligurious entered.

  Susan, frightened, with an effort that must have been painful for her striped body, knelt, with her head down to the tiles, the palms of her hands on the floor, in that form of obeisance apparently required by Ligurious of his women.

  “To your kennel, Slave,” said Ligurious.

  Susan lifted her head. “Yes, Master!” she said.

  “Get out, Slut!” he said.

  “Yes, Master!” she cried, and, springing to her feet, fled from the room.

  “You are up late,” observed Ligurious.

  “I was in the city,” I said, defiantly.

  “It can be dangerous in the city,” he said, “especially in these times, and at night.”

  I tossed my head. He need not know what had happened on the darkened street.

  “You must understand,” he said, “that I have a responsibility for your safety.”

  “It was not necessary that you treated Susan as you did,” I said.

  “Do not attempt to interfere in the relationship between a man and his slave,” he said. “That relationship is absolute.”

  “I see,” I said. I stepped back, frightened.

  “In the future,” he said, “you are not to leave the palace without my permission. In the meantime, you will remain here, confined to your quarters.”

  “No!” I cried.

  “Remove your veil,” he said, “and your outer robes, and slippers.”

  Frightened, I did so. I then stood before him in a long, off-the-shoulder, yellow, silken slip-like garment.

  “You now stand before a man, Lady Sheila,” he said, “as barefoot as a slave.”

  “I shall call the guards!” I cried.

  “And whom do you think they will obey?” he asked.

  “I will call Drusus Rencius!” I cried.

  “He has been relieved of his duties,” said Ligurious. “He is no longer your guard.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “And he seems pleased to be done with you.”

  “Oh,” I said. Now I could no longer torture Drusus, with my nearness and inaccessibility.

  “And I cannot say that I blame him,” said Ligurious. “for you seem to be a frigid little slut.”

  “Slut!” I cried.

  “Do not form an over-exalted opinion of yourself,” he said. “You are only a slut from Earth and no better than a female slave.”

  I looked at him with horror. He stepped toward me, and shrank back. Then I whimpered as I felt his strong hands grasp me by the upper arms. He looked down into my eyes.

  “Displease me in the least,” he said, “and I will put a brand in your hide and a collar on your neck. Do you understand?”

  I could not begin to free myself of his grasp. “Yes,” I said. “Yes!” I was terrified.

  He did not release me. He continued to look down into my eyes. He seemed to me terribly strong and large.

  “I wonder if I should subject you to rape discipline,” he mu
sed.

  “No,” I said. “Please, no.” But I felt heat between my legs, and weakness and helplessness. I knew that my body was lubricating itself, preparing to receive him, if he should choose to have me.

  “You are so much like her,” he said, looking down into my eyes.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “One who makes me weak,” he smiled, “one with whom I am smitten.”

  “I am only a barbarian,” I said.

  “She, too, is a barbarian,” he said, “like yourself a barbarian beauty.”

  “Who is she?” I asked.

  “You do not know her,” he said. Then he removed his hands from me. “In character, of course, you are quite different. She is superior, lofty, noble, regal and fine. Girls like you, on the other hand, can be found in any market. Too, I think she is probably even more beautiful than you, though the resemblance is truly striking. And in intellect, in brilliance and decisiveness, of course, there is no comparison.”

  “Perhaps she should be Tatrix of Corcyrus, and not I,” I said, angrily.

  “Perhaps,” he smiled.

  I turned away from him. “I am the Tatrix of Corcyrus, am I not?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “You know that I am from Earth,” I said. “How is it that I was brought here, to be Tatrix?”

  “We wished to go outside the city,” he said, “to find one from the outside, free of all connections and factions, to rule over us with wisdom and objectivity.”

  “I see,” I said. “Then I am truly the Tatrix of Corcyrus.”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “How is it, then,” I asked, “that I have been treated with rudeness, that even now I am barefoot in your presence?” I did not, of course, make an effort to put my slippers back on. I did not know if he would permit it. He had, of course, ordered me to remove them.

  “You are useful,” he said, “and you have your purposes. You are not, however, indispensable. It would be well for you to remember that. It might encourage you to be more cooperative.”

  “I suppose,” I said, “I should be pleased that you did not order me to strip completely and kneel before you.”

  “You are, of course,” he said, “a free woman.”

  “Yet it seems,” I said, “if only implicitly, you have threatened me.”

  “Suitable disciplines and punishments may be arranged for a free woman,” he said, “suitable to her status and dignity.”

  “I am sure of it,” I said, ironically.

  He then approached me, and stood quite close to me. I was facing away from him.

  “And yet,” he said, “I sense that such disciplines and punishments, those suitable for free women, would not be suitable for you.”

  “And what sorts of disciplines and punishments would be suitable for me?” I asked.

  He held me from behind, by the arms. I was helpless. “Such that would be appropriate for slaves,” he said.

  I stiffened, but I could not free myself.

  “You are so different from her,” he said. I felt his breath on the left side of my neck. “Your dispositions, your responses, the way you carry yourself, the way you move, how you speak.” I felt weak. “I sense,” he said, “wherein your deepest fulfillments would lie. I sense what it is that you need and want, what it is that without it you will never achieve your most perfect and complete self.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “The collar,” he said.

  “No!” I cried.

  “Fight it and deny it, if you will,” he said. “Have your sport. But it is true.”

  “No,” I wept.

  “Consider your incredible femininity,” he said. “You have the curves, the softness, the instincts, the helplessness of the slave.”

  “No!” I said. “I will try to be less feminine, and thus more of a woman!”

  “Words from the insane asylums on Earth,” he laughed. “This is Gor. It is fortunate you are not a slave, or your true womanhood, the marvelous softness and depth of your femininity, revealed and manifested, would in all its fullness be required of you, and without compromise, even to the whip, by masters.”

  He then put his right hand in my hair and held my left wrist in his left hand. He drew my head back, painfully, until even my back was bent backwards.

  “It is interesting,” he said, “how different she is from you. Yet, too, you seem in many ways so similar.” I whimpered, helplessly held. “Do you know that women such as you are born to the chain?” he asked.

  “No,” I said, strained. “No.”

  “Yes,” he said, “and you will not be complete until it is on you.”

  I whimpered helplessly. Why did he not drag me to the bed and take me?

  I understood then what true womanhood was. It was not the denial and frustration of femininity but the full surrender to it, being true to, and honest to, my deepest nature and needs. Femininity was not incompatible with womanhood. It was its expression.

  What insanities, what perversions, what sickness, I had been taught on Earth!

  “Ah, forgive me, Lady Sheila,” said Ligurious, as though concerned. “I almost forget, holding you in this fashion, that you are a free woman.”

  He then released me.

  I straightened up, and, turning about, pulled away from him, as though I had managed to free myself.

  Ligurious bowed to me, from the waist, as though in deep apology. But he was smiling.

  I was horrified. I realized then that I must fight my femininity. I had learned, of course, that in doing this, far from expressing womanhood, I was frustrating and denying it, but that, in my terror, was what I then wished to do. I then, terribly, feared my womanhood, and that to which it might lead.

  I thus, then, decided that my femininity, and thereby my womanhood, must be denied and fought. I could no longer be so simple as to pretend to myself that my womanhood was best served by its own frustration, suppression and denial. I was no longer victimized by that propagandistic stupidity.

  The danger, I now understood clearly, was womanhood itself.

  Openly, honestly, must it be repudiated and denied. That was what was most to be feared, that was the great danger to women, their own womanhood, that which was what they were, in their deepest heart and belly. I was afraid to look deeply into myself. I was afraid of what I might find there.

  “I am a free woman,” I said. “I am free! I am free!”

  “Of course you are,” he said.

  “I am now going to put on my slippers,” I said.

  “Have you received permission to do so?” he asked.

  I looked at him, frightened.

  “You may do so,” he said.

  I slipped into the slippers. I then felt more secure. There is something about being barefoot before a man who is shod that tends to make a woman feel more like a slave before him. These sorts of feelings are intensified, of course, if the woman is naked, or partially clothed, as I was, according to his dictates, before him. Slaves, of course, are often commanded to nudity before their master and their clothing, any, is always subject to his approval.

  In the slippers, interestingly, I felt again the Tatrix of Corcyrus.

  “Are there spies in the city?” I asked.

  “Doubtless Argentum has spies in the city,” he said.

  “Our spies,” I said. “Ones who spy on our own people.”

  “Of course,” he said. “That is a realistic precaution in any city.

  “And to whom do these spies report?” I asked.

  “To the proper authorities,” he said.

  “I am not aware of receiving the reports of these spies,” I said.

  “You are still being trained in the governance of Corcyrus,” he said.

  “How goes the war?” I asked.

  “As I reported earlier,” he said, “well.”

  “The enemy,” I said, suddenly, almost faltering, “is within twenty pasangs of Corcyrus.”

  “That information is, I bel
ieve,” he said, “approximately correct.”

  “That is too close!” I said.

  “Such matters need not concern the Tatrix,” he said. “They need concern, rather, our generals.”

  “That is too close!” I said.

  “We shall soon cut their supply lines,” he said. “Do not fear, Lady Sheila. Our forces will be victorious.”

  “Ar is in the war!” I said.

  “That is true,” he said. “But momentarily we are expecting reinforcements from Cos.”

  “I am afraid, Ligurious,” I said.

  “There is nothing to fear,” he said. “The city is secure. The palace is impregnable.”

  “I do not want the war,” I said. “I want the fighting stopped. I am afraid. I want a truce!”

  “Such matters,” he said, “need not concern you. Leave them to others.”

  “Surely the enemy will consider a truce!” I said.

  Ligurious looked at me and, suddenly, laughed. His laughter unsettled me. I felt that perhaps I had said something inutterably naive or stupid.

  “That is out of the question?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Ligurious. Was the enemy so bitter, so determined? What had driven them to these passions of war?

  What was it that they desired in Corcyrus?

  “Sue for peace!” I said.

  “Everything is planned for,” said Ligurious. “We have anticipated all contingencies.”

  “I want us to sue for peace,” I said.

  “That decision is not yours,” said Ligurious.

  “Am I not the Tatrix of Corcyrus?” I demanded.

  “Of course,” smiled Ligurious.

  “Do I not rule in Corcyrus?” I asked.

  “Of course,” said Ligurious.

  “I rule in Corcyrus,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Ligurious.

  “And who rules me?” I asked.

  “I do,” said Ligurious.

  I shuddered.

  “Did Lady Sheila enjoy her spiced vulo this evening?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  He then left.

  I went to the barred window, looking out. I was confined to my quarters. Out there, somewhere, in the darkness, beyond the walls, was the enemy.

  Apparently they were such that they would not even consider a truce.

 

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