and Marlenus.”
“I understand,” I said.
The girl turned and, swiftly, disappeared in the shadows, the others
disappearing with her.
My men leaped to their feet and seized their weapons.
I went to Sheera, and lifted her head. “Did you see Verna?” I asked her.
“Yes,” she said.
“Were you at the camp?” I asked.
“No,” she said.
“Do they hold Talena?” I demanded. I held her cruelly by the shoulders.
“I do not know,” she said.
I released her.
“Did Verna give you any message for me?” I asked.
“It is unimportant,” she said.
“What was it?” I asked.
“It concerns me,” said Sheera, head down.
“What was the message?” I asked.
“I am to say it to you,” whispered Sheera.
“Say it,” said I.
“Teach me slavery,” whispered Sheera. Then she put her head down.
I thrust her aside with my foot, furious. “Thurnock,” said I, “replace the
stakes.”
The peasant giant did so.
I looked into the darkness of the forests. We would indeed leave the forests,
and by noon of the morrow.
But we would come back.
I had given Verna, and her band, her chance.
I unsnapped the slave bracelets from Sheera.
“Cara,” said I, “see that this girl is taught the duties of a female slave.”
“Yes, Master,” said Cara. She led Sheera away. Sheera looked at me, over her
shoulder.
She would be taught to cook, to sew, to iron and wash clothing.
The former panther girl would learn to perform well the menial tasks of the
female slave.
She would find Cara a helpful but exacting teacher.
We had been welcomed by my men. We had returned to the camp by the river but
within the Ahn. My first task had been to see to the Tesephone. The work was
going well.
In my absence, some hunters and outlaws had brought sleen fur to trade. We had
given them good prices, in gold or goods. As far as those in Laura knew, or
those in the forests, with the exception of the panther girls of Verna’s band,
we were what we seemed, traders in fur and sleen.
I was not dissatisfied.
“Look,” said Rim. “The little she-sleen!”
I observed Tina, carrying a pitcher of water to two of the men working at the
side of the Tesephone.
Her feet sank to her ankles in the sand. I noted that she had, with a light
cord, belted her brief woolen slave tunic. I smiled.
Rim and I approached her. She turned about, startled, and looked up at us.
“Masters?” she asked.
“Raise you arms over your head,” I said.
Apprehensive, she did so. The men watched, curious.
The cord belt she wore, drawing the brief tunic tight about her, dramatized the
small, sweet delights of her body.
But we suspected that that was not the reason the little she-sleen wore the belt
as she did.
Rim tugged the knot loose.
From the garment, to the sand about her ankles, there fell several small Gorean
plums, a small larma fruit and two silver tarsks.
“Pretty little thief,” said Rim.
“My father was a thief!” she cried. “And his father!”
Several men had gathered around. “I am missing two silver tarsks,” said one. He
retrieved his tarsks from the sand.
The girl was now frightened. Thievery on Gor is not much approved.
She attempted to run but one of my men seized her by the arm, and flung her back
before us.
“Where is your cache?” I asked.
She looked at me, and from face to face. Then again she looked at me. “I have no
cache,” she whispered.
“You have ten Ihn,” I told her, :to show us where it is.”
“I have no cache!” she cried.
“One,” I said.
“I have no cache!” she cried. “There is none!”
“Two,” I said.
With a moan she ran from us, to a place near the wall, near which she was, at
night, chained in the sand.
We walked over to where she knelt in the sand, terrified, digging, weeping.
“Nine,” I said.
She lifted a piece of folded leather, many particles of sand clinging to it, to
me.
Then she knelt with her head to my feet.
I opened the folded leather. It contained many small articles, some rings,
trinkets, small mirrors, coins.
“You are a skilled thief,” I said.
“My father was a thief,” she said, “and his father before him.”
She trembled at my feet.
I passed her bit of loot about, and cast aside the scrap of leather in which she
had wrapped her small horde.
“You understand,” I said, “that a slave girl may not possess goods.”
She shook. “Yes, Master,” she said.
“Do you think, within the Ehn,” I asked, “that you could bring me a tarn disk,
of gold, of double weight?”
“I have no gold!” she cried.
“Then it seems you must be beaten,” I said.
“No!” she cried, “No!” then she turned and tried to flee, pushing her way
through my men, closing her in.
in an instant, two men holding her arms, she was thrust again before me, and
forced to her knees. She put her head down.
“It seems,” said Rim, “that we must now beat her.”
“I do not think so,” I said.
Tina lifted her head. She was smiling. She held up her right hand to me. It held
a golden tarn disk. It was of double weight.
There was a shout of pleasure from the men. They were striking their left
shoulders with their right fists, repeatedly, in Gorean applause.
I lifted her to her feet. She was smiling. “You are superb,” I told her.
“My father was a thief,” she said.
“And his father before him,” added Rim.
She looked down, smiling.
“Is it your intention to steal further in this camp?” I asked.
She looked up into my eyes, earnestly. “No, Master,” she said. “No!”
“On the contrary,” I said, “it is my wish that you keep your skills fresh. You
may steal in this camp where and when you wish, but within the Ahn you are to
return what you have stolen.”
She laughed, delightedly.
The men looked at one another, uncomfortably.
“Tonight,” I said, “you will, following our supper, give a demonstration.”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Whose gold piece is this?” I asked, lifting the double tarn.
The men checked their pouches. None of them claimed the gold.
I did not think she had taken it from me. “Is it mine?” I asked her.
“No,” she said, smiling. “It is Thurnock’s.”
Thurnock, who had not checked his pouch, knowing it had not been taken form him,
snorted in derision, a great peasant snort, like a bosk.
“It is not mine,” said Thurnock.
“Did you have a double tarn with you?” I asked him.
“Yes,” said Thurnock. He fished about in his pouch. Then he reddened. The men
laughed.
I tossed Thurnock the coin.
I regarded Tina. “You are a lovely little thief,” I said. “Turn your back to
me.”
She did so.
I took up the cord with which she had bound in her slave tunic.
I looped it twice about her belly, and jerked it tight, tying it.
She gasped. “Do you permit me the cord,” she asked, “that I may more easily
conceal what I steal?”
“No,” I said. “I permit it to you that men may more easily note your beauty.”
This time lovely Tina, beneath her tan, from the wharves of Lydius, blushed red,
and put her head down.
I lifter her head, and took her in my arms. She trembled. I kissed her upon the
lips. Her body, that of a white-silk girl, fresh to the collar, was terribly
frightened. Not releasing her, I looked upon her. She lifted her lips delicately
to mine, those of her master, and kissed them. Her eyes were frightened.
“If I do not return, with the Ahn, what I steal,” she asked, “what will be done
with me?”
“For the first offense,” I said, “your left hand will be removed.”
She struggled to escape my arms.
“For the second offense,” I said, “your right hand will be removed.”
Her eyes were but inches from mine, dark, dilated, filled with terror.
“Do you understand?” I asked.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
“You are slave,” I said.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered.
I kissed her again, deeply, pressing back her head. Then I released her. She
stood facing me, her hand before her mouth, small, beautiful in the brief,
tightly corded slave garment. I noted that Sheera, carrying a bowl, standing
nearby, did not seem much pleased.
I indicated Tina. To my men I said, “You may taste her lips.”
They eagerly reached for her, and, kissing her, handed her from one to the next.
When she had been passed about the circle, stumbling, her hair across her eyes,
the fillet gone, she stood again before me. She was breathing deeply. She was
partly bent over. She looked up at me. She was not weeping. Then she stood
straight, and, shoulders back, smoothed down the brief slave garment.
The men laughed.
“Do not forget you are a slave,” I told her.
“I shall not, “ she said.
Then, as the men laughed, she turned about and went to the kitchen area, they
parting, permitting her beauty to pass between them unopposed.
I thought she walked rather well.
I thought Tina would prove popular in the camp.
I and my men, save the posted guards, sat about the fire on the beach, within
the wall, not far from the inclining hull of the Tesephone.
Sheera knelt before me, her head down, resting back on her heels, her arms
extended to me, proffering me, in the manner of the Gorean slave girl, the wine
bowl.
I took it, dismissing her.
“When will we return to the forests?” asked Rim. He sat beside me. He was served
by Cara.
“Not immediately,” I said. “First, I wish to arrange for the comforts of my men,
those remaining at the camp.”
“Is there time?” asked Rim.
“I think so,” I said. “We know the approximate location of Verna’s camp and
dancing circle. Marlenus does not. He still hunts in the vicinity of Laura.”
“You are a patient man,” said Rim.
“Patience,” I told him, “ is a virtue of merchants.”
I held forth the wine bowl that Sheera, from a large wine crater, might refill
it.
“Patience, too,” said Rim, “is a characteristic of players of the Game, and of
certain warriors.”
“Perhaps,” I said, and quaffed the wine.
“I myself,” said he, ruefully, “am less patient.”
“Tomorrow,” I told him, “you will go to Laura, trekking downriver. Arrange for
four paga slaves, the most beautiful you can find in Laura, to be sent to our
camp. Then, when these arrangements are made, return. The girls may follow you.”
“There are men of Tyros in Laura,” said Rim, looking down into his small wine
bowl, cradled in the palm of his right hand.
“We are simple traders, dealers in fur and hide,” I told him, “from the island
of Tabor.”
“True,” smiled Rim.
“I cannot wait,” said Thurnock, “until we can again enter the forests!”
I looked at him. “Thurnock,” I said, “I need a man here, an officer I can trust,
one to maintain the camp, one to command shrewdly in my absence.”
“No!” boomed Thurnock.
“It is my wish, my friend,” I said to him.
Thurnock looked down. “Yes, my captain,” said he.
I stood up. “It is time for the exhibition I promised you,” I said. “Tina! Come
here!” She had been serving, too. Now she sped to my side.
“Build up he fire,” I said. It was done.
The interior of the camp was now ell illuminated. “Can you all see clearly?” I
asked.
There were sounds of assent. Even Sheera and Cara came close, to watch.
“Note,” said Tina. “Can you feel this?” she put her fingers at the pouch worn at
my belt.
I was disappointed. “Yes,” I said. “That was clumsy.”
Her first finger, followed by her thumb, had slipped within the neck of the
pouch, forcing apart the strings which held it shut, and emerged, holding a
coin. It had been done neatly, but I had felt the tug of the strings.
“I felt it,” I told her.
“Of course,” she said.
I looked at her, puzzled.
She handed me back the coin, and I returned it to the pouch. I was not much
pleased.
“It may always be felt,” she said, “if one is paying attention.”
“I had though you more skillful,” I said.
“Do not be angry with me, Master,” she wheedled. She put herself against me, and
with her left hand about my waist, tugged at the side of my tunic, and lifted
her lips to mine. I kissed her lightly, and them put her back from me.
She handed me the coin a second time.
I laughed.
There was much applause from the men, and, too, from Sheera and Cara.
“That time,” said Tina,” you did not feel it.”
“No,” I said, “I did not.”
“And yet it is the same thing,” she said, “which is done.”
My look of puzzlement delighted her. She was much pleased. She turned to the
others, not me, to explain what had been done.
“He was distracted,” she said. “One must always distract the attention. I did it
by tugging at his tunic, where he would notice it, and by kissing him. We pay
attention, commonly, to one thing at a time. The theft is there to be felt, but
one does not feel it, because one is not intent on feeling it. One’s attention
is elsewhere. One may also deflect the attention by a word, or a glance
somewhere. One may sometime lead the individual to expect an attack in one area,
and then strike in another.”
“She should be a general,” grumbled Thurnock. Tina looked quickly at him. He
slid backward in the sand. :Stay away from me!” he cried.
The men laughed.
“You, Master,” said Tina, to a handsome young seaman, who wore a wristlet
studded with purplish stone, amethysts from Schendi, “would you be so kind as to
rise and come forwa
rd.”
He stood before her, appreciatively, but warily.
“You kissed me this afternoon,” she told him. “Please do so again.”
“Very well,” he agreed.
“But guard your pouch,” said she.
“I shall,” said he.
He put his hands at her waist, and bent, carefully, to kiss her.
She stood on her tiptoes, and lifted her lips eagerly to his.
When they parted, he reached for his pouch. He grinned. “You did not obtain my
pouch!” he laughed.
“Here is your wristlet,” said Tina, handing him the amethyst-studded wristlet.
There was much laughter.
I and perhaps one or two of the others had seen her unbuckle it, deftly,
lightly, with one hand, while his hand was at her waist. Most of those at the
fire were as startled as the handsome young seaman when they saw the wristlet in
Tina’s hand.
We gave her much applause.
Chagrined, but laughing, the young man rebuckled the wristlet, and went and sat
down by the fire.
“Master,” said Tina.
He looked up.
“Your pouch,” she said, throwing it at him.
There was much more laughter.
“It is not always easy to unknot a pouch,” I told her.
“That is true,” she admitted. She looked at me, and smiled. “The strings, of
course,” she said, “might be cut.”
I laughed ruefully. I well recalled how well she had robbed me in our first
acquaintance on the wharves of Lydius.
“Rim has been kind enough,” she said, ”from the blade of an old shaving knife to
supply a suitable implement.”
Rim, from his own pouch, handed up to her a tiny steel half crescent, ground
from the blade of a shaving knife. Part of it, wrapped in physician’s tape, was
bent and fitted behind her first two fingers. The blade, as it projected from
between her two fingers, was almost invisible.
“Master?” asked Tina.
I got to my feet, determined not to be fooled. But when Tina stumbled against
me, before I realized it, neatly, the purse strings had been cut.
“Excellent,” I told her. I reknotted the strings, tying them together. I would
have a new purse tomorrow.
“Do you think you could do it again?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” said Tina. “I do not know. You are now on your guard.
She passed me once again. The strings were still intact. “You missed,” I told
her.
She handed me the contents of the purse. I laughed. She had cut the bottom of
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