Book Read Free

Witness of Gor coc-26

Page 66

by John Norman


  to be sure, her master would doubtless to some extent protect her, seeing to it that the crowd did not exceed the proprieties customary to such occasions, for example, that they not be permitted to mutilate her or break her limbs. And soon, of course, or sooner or later, she should be relatively safe, being chained and hooded, and inserted into a cage basket, perhaps with other slaves, having arrived at the docks.

  Shortly after Henry, of the house of William, in Harfax, had exited with a slave, the door to the side opened and the clerk came though. The pit master went forward then, and, near the clerk’s table, conferred with the clerk. Some papers were signed, a copy being retained by the clerk, and one my the pit master.

  The clerk then turned toward the portal. “Bring forth the free woman,” he called. The two court guards then entered, conducting, between them, a woman in robes of concealment, fully veiled. She was, however, barefoot. Her ankles were trim. I wondered if she were pretty. The pit master turned to the two pit guards, by the portal leading to the outer hall, that leading thence to the outside, and, with a gesture, summoned them forward. He also beckoned that I should approach. I quickly rose to my feet and hurried forward, then kneeling near him. I noted impatience in the manner, and contempt in the eyes, of the woman in the robes of concealment as I approached. I knew myself despised by her. I did not meet her eyes.

  “This is the Lady Ilene of Venna,” said the clerk.

  The pit master lowered his head, his features shielded within the dark hood.

  “Where am I?” she asked, angrily. “What am I doing here?”

  The pit master went behind her and, one my one, pulled her hands behind her. There were two clicks.

  “I am braceleted!” she exclaimed, angrily. “How dare you put me in such things! Remove them, immediately!”

  The pit master was then again before her. He looked down at her feet.

  “One slipper,” said he, not turning from the free woman, but addressing himself to the clerk, “was used to convince her house that she was in our keeping. The other is in a distant city, where negotiations may be conducted, the authenticity of our negotiators attested to by the possession of the second slipper. It was not thought that, under the circumstances, she required hose.”

  Bonds are seldom placed over clothing. The free woman, the Lady Ilene of Venna, was under detention, rather obviously as a ransom prisoner, as had been the Lady Constanzia of Besnit, now the slave Constanzia, owned by Henry, of the house of William, in Harfax. Accordingly, her hose had been removed, that her ankles might now from the Gorean point of view be the more appropriately crossed and tied, or shackled. Such things are in part cultural, and in part practical.

  I considered her, what I could see of her.

  She certainly did have trim ankles. They would look well, crossed and corded together, tightly, or shackled.

  I wondered, again, if she were pretty.

  Doubtless the guards, too, were curious about that.

  The woman tried to pull her feet back, a little, more beneath her robes.

  “Who is this misshapen lout?” she asked. “What is he doing here? Why does he conceal his features?”

  “You are in the presence of a warden of our city, Lady,” said the clerk. “It is in his keeping that you will find yourself until your disposition is clear.”

  “My disposition?” she asked.

  “Yes, Lady,” said the clerk.

  “What are you doing!” she cried.

  “He is leashing you,” said the clerk.

  “Never!” she cried.

  There was a click. She was leashed. “Take it off!” she cried.

  “What?” asked one of the pit guards, one who had had his eye on her.

  “ ‘What’?” she asked.

  “Yes, ‘what’,” he said. “Your veil? Your hood? Your clothing?”

  She shrank back. “Monster,” she said.

  The pit master gestured to me and I rose, and came forward, and then again knelt, this time before the free woman, putting my head to the tiles before her. “Forgive me, Lady,” I said. I then rose up and grasped the leash.

  “I will not be led by a slut of a slave!” she said.

  The pit master then gestured to the guard who had spoken before, and I willingly surrendered the leash to him.

  He stood rather close to the free woman and, the leash wrapped about one hand, put his two hands on her hips. He looked down into her eyes, and she turned her head away. With one hand, the chain of the leash dangling from it, he reached up and, within her hood, the chain trailing, touched the left side of her face. Then he turned it, again, to face him. He then put one finger to the height of the veil, where, near her left eye, rather at the bridge of her nose, he pulled it down, ever so little. It seemed he might think of peering down, within it. She tried to back away, but was prevented from doing so by one of the court’s guards. The fellow then crouched down a little behind her, on her right. He transferred the leash to his left hand, and, with that hand, brushed up the hem of the robes a bit and, with his right hand, grasped her right ankle. “Steady her,” he said to the court guard behind her, and that guard then grasped her by the upper arms. The pit guard then, holding to her ankle, lifted her foot, lifting it up so that the lower portion of the robe of concealment came forward, to the lodgment behind the knee, this revealing something of her calf, and also, of course, her foot, the ankle in his grasp. “A pretty calf,” said the pit guard. “Yes,” said the court guard holding the woman from behind. “I think she would take a two-ring,” said the pit guard, lifting the ankle a little more. “Yes,” said the other pit guard. “I would think so,” said the other court guard. This was a reference to the sizes of ankle rings. “She is about the size of Janice,” said the other pit guard, he not holding the woman’s ankle. “What size ankle ring do you take, Janice?” “A two-ring, Master,” I said. “See?” said the pit guard holding the woman’s ankle. “Yes,” agreed his fellow. The woman put her head in the air. I supposed she was not pleased at all to learn that she had this in common with me, that we might take the same size ankle ring. But what would be so surprising about this? Were we so different? And are not free women, as the men of this world sometimes suggest, only slaves without collars? The pit guard then released her ankle, and the fellow behind her released her upper arms. She now stood as she had before. Only I think that now she was acutely conscious of the men about her, and, in particular, of he who held her leash. His fist, the right fist, the leash now again transferred to his right hand, the leash wrapped about it, was only about six inches from her collar ring. He looked down at her. She quickly averted her eyes. “I wonder if she is pretty,” said one of the court guards. “ ‘Ilene’ would be a pretty name for a slave,” said the fellow with the leash. “Yes,” said his fellow.

  “Please,” protested the woman.

  “Do you think you might make good company for a lonely man on a long, cold night?” asked the guard, he holding her leash.

  “I would be led by the slave,” said the free woman hastily, frightened.

  There was laughter.

  I thought her request a judicious one, particularly if she did not wish to be visited in a cell at night, and forced to strip, and perform as a slave.

  “Forgive me, Mistress,” I said, accepting the leash from the guard.

  “Slut,” she said to me.

  “Yes, Mistress,” I said.

  “Functionary,” said the woman to the clerk.

  “Lady?” he said, politely.

  “You will expedite the arrangements from my ransom,” she said. “I will soon be ransomed by my beloved sisters. There should be no difficulties in the matter, as we are one of the richest houses in Venna.”

  “It is my hope,” said he, “that these matters may be conducted with the utmost dispatch.”

  “And if things do not work out,” said the pit guard, he in whose hands she had been, in effect, assessed, “I am sure we can think of something else for you.”

&nb
sp; “Beast!” she said.

  “What did you think I had in mind?” he asked.

  She turned away, angrily.

  “I expect,” she said to the clerk, “to be treated with honor, and with dignity and respect, such as comports with my condition and station.”

  “I understand,” he said.

  “You may begin,” she said, “by removing these horrid bracelets and this obscene leash!”

  “They are the devices,” said he, “of your current keeper, a warden of the city.”

  She turned to the pit master.

  “Lout,” she said.

  The pit master lifted his head a little, his feathers hidden in the folds of the hood. He seldom left the depths, and, when he did so, he apparently exercised certain cautions.

  “Removed the bracelets and leash!” she said.

  “Remove them yourself,” he said.

  She struggled, briefly, pulling at the bracelets behind her back. The chain danced on its collar ring. I trusted she would neither mark nor injure her wrists. Such bracelets are not designed to be slipped by a female. They hold us well.

  “I cannot do so,” she said.

  “Then they will remain on you, until I see fit to remove them,” said the pit master.

  “Tarsk!” she berated him.

  The pit master stiffened. He was known as “the Tarsk” to certain scions of the city, I knew. The free woman, of course, would not know this. With her, it was merely a convenient term of abuse, an insult at hand.

  The guards present smiled. The two pit guards exchanged glances. With her insult the free woman may have inadvertently placed herself closer to their grasp than she realized.

  “I am rich, and of high station,” she said. “I shall expect the finest accommodations.”

  “I have in mind a little place for you,” responded the pit master, one near the water.”

  “Excellent,” she said.

  “Sir!” protested one of the pit guards, he who had for a time held the free woman’s leash.

  “No,” said the pit master, his decision having been made.

  The free woman, it seemed, would not soon be in a cell, or even an ample-sized low-ceilinged kennel, one which might be on the guard’s rounds, one to which he might hold the key.

  The free woman laughed merrily, understanding the pit master’s decision as constituting for her some sort of victory, particularly given the disgruntlement of the guard.

  “Perhaps later,” said the pit master to the guard. “We shall see.”

  “Our business here is done,” said the clerk, he having signed over the prisoner to the pit master. “I wish you well.”

  “I wish you well,” said the pit master.

  The clerk with the court guards then withdrew, exiting through the same portal by means of which they had entered the chamber.

  The pit master then drew forth from his pouch a slave hood, which I would place on the prisoner. He and the two guards then went toward the door. They conferred there, out of earshot. Perhaps they spoke of the prisoner, perhaps of matters of the pits. I do not know. Too, curiosity is not becoming in a kajira.

  I began to open and unfold the hood.

  “What is that?” asked the free woman.

  “A hood, Mistress,” I said. I needed not tell her it was a slave hood.

  “What is it for?” she asked.

  “Forgive me, Mistress,” I said. “It is to hood you. You are to know little of your surroundings, even where you are.”

  “I am not a slave girl!” she said.

  I shook out the hood.

  “Wait,” she said. “See that guard.”

  “Which?” I asked.

  “There, he who so insolently dared to touch me!”

  “Yes, Mistress,” I said.

  “He is a handsome fellow, is he not?”

  “Yes Mistress,” I said.

  “The leash is pretty, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Yes, Mistress,” I said. It was of gleaming chain. The metal collar, with its ring, was also attractive.

  “The bracelets, too, are pretty, are they not?” she asked.

  “Yes, Mistress,” I said. Most slave hardware, it seems, or at least that intended for women, is not designed solely for custodial purposes, for perfection of security. That function goes without saying. It is also designed, commonly, to display the slave, to show her off, to enhance her beauty. Bondage, as a whole, incidentally, has a tendency to enhance the beauty of women, not so much from the emphasis which it places on diet, exercise, proper rest, cleanliness, physical attractiveness, cosmetics, costuming, and such, as for the way in which it returns woman, in an institutionalized fashion, to her place in nature, rightly relating her to men, reducing her inhibitions and freeing her emotions. No woman can be fully fulfilled and happy until she finds herself at the feet of her master. Many women do not know how beautiful they are until they see themselves, bound and collared, in a mirror.

  “What is it like to be touched by a man?”

  “They make us serve them well,” I said.

  “Do you think they could make me serve them well?” she asked.

  “Do not make me speak,” I said.

  “Speak,” she said.

  “Yes Mistress,” I said.

  “Slut!” she said.

  “Yes Mistress,” I said.

  But she had trembled, thrilled.

  “I will not be here long,” she said. “My beloved sisters will ransom me, almost instantly!”

  “Yes, Mistress,” I said. I lifted the hood.

  “Do you think he likes me?” she asked.

  “I do not know, Mistress,” I said. “Perhaps he might, if you were concerned to be pleasant-and if you were nude, at his feet.”

  “Slut! Slut!” she said.

  “Yes, Mistress,” I said. I then drew the hood over her features, and buckled it shut, beneath her chin.

  In the hood, though she was not gagged within it, she remained silent.

  I lifted the chain leash. I looked to the pit master, and the guards.

  They still conferred.

  I wondered what the free woman might look like, stripped, on a slave block. She had had a trim ankle, a well turned calf.

  But she was confident that her sisters would ransom her.

  I wondered if the guard would make a bid on her.

  I then, at the sign from the pit master, brought the free woman forward and, shortly thereafter, she flanked by the guards, I holding her leash, the pit master leading, we left the court of the commercial praetor. We did not return immediately to the pits, as the pit master had certain matters to attend to in the city, mostly having to do with supplies. Indeed, it was, as it happened, only after sunset that we reached the entrance to the tunnels, some branches of which lead to underground routes and defenses, others to the pits. We did stop for a moment on the terrace, to watch a tarn caravan in flight, one of more than fifty birds, one which had left in the vicinity of sunset. Those not of this city with such a caravan, in the carrying baskets, would be hooded. Among these, I was sure, would be Henry, of the house of William, in Harfax, and certain agents of that house. In the cargo of the caravan, too, I was sure, in one of the cage baskets, there would be a slave, also hooded, a girl who had, only this afternoon, been named ‘Constanzia’.

  30

  Fina, the preferred slave of the pit master, burst into the quarters of the pit master. I and two others were present, a guard and another girl.

  “Master!” she cried. “They are coming! Members of the black caste!”

  The guard thrust the girl from him. He looked wildly at the pit master.

  “Seal the passages,” said the pit master. “Alert the guard.”

  The guard swiftly left the room.

  The girl whom he had thrust from him looked after him, in consternation, clutching a bit of slave rag to herself.

  “Fecha, Janice,” said the pit master with a swift gesture, “to your kennels!”

  I quic
kly pulled my tunic off and hurried to the kennel, backing into it, pulling shut the gate after me. I was then locked in. I drew back in the kennel. Fecha discarded the slave rag and locked herself, too, in her kennel. Fina, who had no kennel, but was commonly slept at the slave ring of the pit master, quickly seized up a polishing rag and, kneeling to one side, head down, began to buff a goblet.

  But the first figure which entered the quarters was not that of a stranger, but one who had, upon occasion, frequented these precincts before, the officer, he whose name I knew not, but whose rank was captain.

  The pit master looked up from some papers which he had but a moment before spread before him. He had also, beneath these papers, I had noted, concealed a stiletto.

  “The projected invasion has landed,” said the officer. “It has made landfall, as anticipated, at Brundisium.”

  “It has begun,” said the pit master.

  “It seems they think it safe now,” said the officer.

  “And perhaps now, it is,” speculated the pit master.

  “But an Ahn ago,” said the officer, “emissaries from Lurius of Jad have arrived in the city. They have obtained clearances from the administration. They are authorized to enter the depths.”

  “Members of the black caste, the Assassins,” said the pit master. “They are not far behind you.”

  “You know?”

  “I have just received word.”

  “They wish to take custody of the prisoner,” said the officer. “I am sure of it.”

  “It will be a brief custody, I am sure,” said the pit master.

  “He is to be removed to Cos,” said the officer.

  “He will never reach Cos,” said the pit master.

  “I have heard he is to be removed to Cos,” said the officer, firmly.

  “Why Assassins?” asked the pit master. “Why those of the black caste?”

 

‹ Prev