Norman, John - Gor 25 - Magicians of Gor.txt

by Magicians of Gor [lit]

  I had decided that it would be better for her to carry the note in her tunic, in

  order that it not attract attention. The free man, for example, had noticed it.

  It had been all right for her to carry it in her hand, I had thought, when we

  had hoped that she would be able to deliver it almost immediately, say, behind

  the theater, but it seemed now she would have to wait a little, say, until our

  quarry reached Tarn Court, which, if had anything to do with it, would not be

  long.

  I turned and looked at the palanquin. In a moment I was beside it.

  “One side,” I said to the handsome interlocutor standing beside the palanquin.

  “Oh!” said the woman within it, drawing back.

  “I feared this,” said the free fellow I had talked to earlier, up the street.

  The handsome interlocutor, our quarry, of course, did not interfere, but stood

  back. Had I insisted on it, he must kneel. He was slave.

  “What is the meaning of this!” exclaimed the woman, hastily raising her veil,

  holding it about her face.

  (pg. 384) “This fellow,” I said, indicating the free fellow with whom I had held

  brief converse but a moment or so ago, “interfered with the progress of a state

  slave.”

  “Be off!” said the woman.

  “I thought you would like to know that,” I said.

  “Pummel him!” she said to the free fellow.

  “That might not be wise,” he said. He glanced to the other free fellow with the

  palanquin. Their exchange of glances suggested that his fellow fully

  corroborated his speculation.

  “Will no one protect a free woman?” she inquired.

  The handsome interlocutor, at this point, seemed for a moment undecided. He

  might even have been considering the wisdom, all things considered, of hastening

  forward. I said to him, rudely, I fear, considering his indubitable fame and

  talent, controversial though the latter might be, “Kneel!”

  Immediately he did so.

  “Oh!” said the woman in dismay, seeing the handsome fellow put to his knees.

  The two fellows with the handsome fellow, both free men, started forward a

  little at this point, but I threw them a welcoming, menacing glance, and they,

  looking to one another, decided to remain in the background. After all, on what

  ground should they object to a legitimate command issued by a free person to one

  who, after all, was but a slave?

  “Attack him!” said the woman to the free men with her.

  “He is armed!” said the fellow I had met earlier.

  Actually I was not armed today, as I was not in uniform, not wearing, that is,

  the armband of the auxiliary guardsman, and I did not want to be stopped by

  guardsmen, line or auxiliary, as being in possible violation of the injunction

  against unauthorized weapons in the city, that injunction which placed a

  populace at the mercy of anyone armed. When I had reached to my tunic earlier,

  of course, I had merely meant to convey the suggestion to the fellow that I had

  a concealed weapon there. This suggestion he, a bright fellow, had been quick to

  accept. To be sure, had I been really armed, I would not have cared to be he,

  calling the bluff.

  “Be off!” cried the women. “Or I shall set my bearers on you!”

  “You would set your slaves on a free man in the streets?” I asked.

  Her eyes flashed.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “That is none of your business!” she cried.

  “It will surely be of interest to guardsmen,” I said.

  (pg. 385) “Go away!” she cried.

  “They will wish to ascertain what person ordered slaves to attack a free man, an

  innocent fellow merely engaged in reporting a misdemeanor.”

  “Begone!” she cried.

  “Besides,” I said, “if I disembowel a couple of these fellows, how will you get

  home? I do not think that you would care to walk through the streets, perhaps

  soiling your slippers.” The slippers were well worked, colorful and intricate

  with exquisite embroideries. Slave girls, on the other hand, commonly walk the

  streets, barefoot, sometimes with something on an ankle, usually the left, a few

  loops of cord, an anklet, bangles, a tiny chain, such things.

  “Also,” I said, “what were you doing here, accosting a male slave?”

  “Oh!” she cried, in anger.

  “Do you not think guardsmen will be interested in that?” I asked.

  “Beast!” she said.

  “But then perhaps you are a slave girl,” I said.

  “Beast!” she said.

  “Are you branded?” I asked.

  “No!” she said.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Sleen! Sleen!” she cried.

  “Then I gather you are not branded,” I said.

  “No,” she said, “I am not branded!”

  “I see,” I said. “Then you are an unbranded slave girl.”

  “Sleen!” she wept.

  “There are doubtless many of those,” I said.

  “Sleen! Sleen!” she cried.

  I reached to her veil, and tore it away, face-stripping her. She seized the veil

  in my hands but, as I held it, she could do nothing with it. Indeed, she could

  not, as she held the veil, even draw her hood more closely about her features.

  She looked at me in disbelief, in astonishment, in fury. Her features, though

  distorted by rage, were of interest. They were well formed, and exquisite. “You

  are very pretty, slave girl,” I said.

  She released the veil, cried out with misery, turned about in the palanquin, and

  threw herself down in it, covering her face with her hands, hiding it from me.

  Her head was now toward the foot of the palanquin, and her knees were drawn up.

  This well displayed her curves to me, even beneath the robes of concealment.

  “You apparently have an excellent figure,” I said to her. “It would be

  interesting to see how it might look in a bit of slave silk.”

  (pg. 386) “Take me home! Take me home!” she wept.

  One of the free men with her, the one with whom I had earlier held converse,

  signaled to the bearers, and they lifted the palanquin. Soon it was on its way.

  He drew shut its curtains as it moved down the street. But I did not doubt but

  what he, too, before he drew shut the curtains, had formed some conjecture of

  his own on the lineaments within, and how they might appear if properly clad, in

  slave silk.

  I glanced to the fellow kneeling there on the stones. “You may rise,” I informed

  him.

  He stood up.

  “Kneel,” I said to him, sharply, angrily.

  Immediately, startled, he went again to his knees.

  The two fellows with him started forward, but I warned then back with a look.

  “Do you not know who that is?” asked one of them.

  “A slave,” I said. Then I turned to the slave. “Let us now try this again,” I

  said. “You may rise.”

  “Yes, Master,” he said. �
�€œThank you, Master.”

  He then rose properly to his feet, humbly, permitted.

  More than one person about gasped.

  I think, as well, that this was not a familiar experience for the fellow.

  The slave, of course, need not verbally respond to all such permission, and

  such, but it is expected that his behavior will be in accord with the decorums

  of obedience.

  “You may continue on your way,” I said to the three of them, releasing them from

  the custody of my will.

  “Come along,” said one of the two fellows to the slave. The three of them then,

  together, lost little time in making their way down Aulus street. I noted that

  the fellow had not responded deferentially to the summons to come along, but

  then, I did not think that was my business. If the two fellows were disposed to

  treat the slave as though he might not be a slave. I did not think that that

  need be considered my concern. The interaction had not taken place, with me, for

  example. Also, of course, I had upon occasion, though quire infrequently, to be

  sure, on this world, remarked an instance in which a slave had seemed to me at

  least minimally deficient in deferentially to a master. In such instances, of

  course, one does not desire to usurp the prerogatives of the master, even if he

  is a weakling. One may always hope that he will eventually understand what must

  be done, and reach for the whip. Needless to say, all Gorean slave girls find

  themselves sooner or later, perhaps after a renaissance of manhood in the

  master, or a new sale, or (pg. 387) some change of hands, kept under perfect

  discipline. It is the Gorean way. Only one can be master. The fellow did turn

  once, and look back at me, as though puzzled, and then, with the others, he

  continued on his way. I suspect he had not been reminded that he was a slave for

  a very long time. Perhaps Appanius had let that slip his mind. In my opinion,

  that would have been a mistake. At any rate I had seen no reason for doing so,

  particularly in the light of my plans. I did not think it would take them long

  to reach Tarn Court. Also, as I had cut short the fellow’s conversation with the

  free woman in the palanquin, I had surely saved them a little time. I neither

  expected, nor wished, thanks for this, however. Briefly I recollected the free

  woman in the palanquin. Surely I had given her something to think about. Perhaps

  she was now curious as to what she might look like on a sales block, or what the

  nature of the bids might be.

  As Lavinia was cognizant of the usual itinerary of the fellow from the theater

  to the house of Appanius and she had gone about to Tarn Court, on the way, and

  was presumably stationed there, to the east, under the bowers, I took a similar

  route, rapidly striding. In this fashion I would appear to be moving in the

  direction opposite the fellow and his two companions. I could then renew my

  contact with them from a distance, discreetly observing the encounter between

  that party and a girl seemingly in the garments of the state slave. In a few Ehn

  I was on Tarn Court, following the fellow and his companions. Once off Aulus,

  and perhaps being confident that they were not followed, they had slowed their

  pace. Tarn Court is a wide street, or, at least, wide for a city street of Gor.

  Several blocks east of Aulus, before noon, it is the location of a vegetable and

  fruit market. In the areas of the market, stretching almost from the north to

  the south side of the street, the street is shaded by a large number of

  vine-covered trellises, cresting bowers, which provide protection for the

  produce and, later in the day, shade for pedestrians. Many Gorean streets,

  incidentally, are almost always in shade because of their narrowness and the

  encompassing buildings. A result of this is that one is not always clear as to

  the position of the sun and, accordingly, it is easy to lose one’s orientation,

  even as to the time of day. The fact that not all Gorean streets have generally

  accepted or marked names can add to the confusion. To one who knows the area

  this presents little difficulty but to a stranger, or one unfamiliar with the

  area, it can be extremely confusing. Interestingly enough many Gorean

  municipalities intentionally resist the attempt to impose some form of rational

  order on this seeming chaos. This (pg. 388) is not simply because of the

  Gorean’s typical reverence for tradition but because it is thought to have some

  military advantage, as well. For example, portions of invading forces have upon

  several occasions, in one city or another, literally become lost in the city,

  with the result that they have been unable to rally, rendezvous, group and

  attain objectives. Cases have been reported where an enemy force has literally

  withdrawn from a city and some of its components have remained in the city,

  wandering about for a day or two, out of communication with the main forces.

  Needless to say, the military situation of such isolated contingents is an often

  unenviable one. More than one such group has been set upon and destroyed. To be

  sure, invaders usually supply themselves with fellows who are familiar with the

  city. It is illegal in many cities, incidentally, to take maps of the city out

  of the city. More than one fellow, too, has put himself in the quarries or on

  the bench of a galley for having been caught with such a map in his possession.

  I was about fifty yards behind the group of three fellows, who were sauntering

  east of tarn Court. For a long time I did not detect the presence of Lavinia.

  Then, some seventy yards or so ahead, and to the right, near a wall, before the

  eastern termination of the trellised area where the morning market is held, from

  a patchwork of lights and shadows, I picked her out. She, after entering from

  the south, from a side street, had apparently hurried on ahead. In this fashion

  she could make certain that she would not miss the group when it passed. She

  would also have time to prepare herself, and regain her composure. She had

  positioned herself on her knees, at a wall, near a slave ring. This was fully

  appropriate. Too, it added to the effect which her appearance must have on all

  males who saw her, her beauty, her collar and a slave ring. The ring was about

  level with her neck. To such rings, of course, a master may fasten or chain a

  girl while he busies himself elsewhere. I was pleased that she had had the

  intelligence not to act as though she had been put at the ring “bound by the

  master’s will” because her leaving the ring might then have elicited

  astonishment or comment. There are many ways of putting a girl at the ring,

  “bound by the master’s will.” One typical way is to stand her at the ring and

  have her place her right hand behind her back through the ring and grasp her

  left wrist. Another typical way is to kneel her at the ring and have her put her

  right hand through the ring, grasping her left wrist. One of the simplest and

  perhaps the most typical way of “binding by the master’s will” is simply to have

  the girl grasp her left wrist with her right hand behind her back. Needless to

  say whatever amusement, pleasure or (pg. 389) c
onvenience this may afford a

  master it can be exquisitely frustrating to a slave to strive desperately and in

  terror to maintain this position while, say, being subjected to various

  attentions typical of the mastery. Most masters, in such a situation, would

  simply bind the girl, tying or braceleting her hands behind her back. In this

  fashion she knows her struggles will be unavailing, that she is helpless and

  cannot escape. She may then without fear or hesitation open herself completely

  to the joy of the subjugation, to the rapture of her conquest, to the bliss of

  her surrender.

  When the party of three, the handsome fellow, and his two companions, were

  within a few yards of her, she rose lightly, gracefully, to her feet. They noted

  this movement, of course, and doubtless had observed her earlier. Certainly it

  is difficult for a kneeling slave, and one of such beauty, as they could now

  detect, even given the mixtures of light and shadow beneath the trellises, to be

  ignored. Their eyes met, and then she lowered her head, humbly. This contact,

  however, brief as it was, gave them to halt. In it she had conveyed to them that

  she had been waiting for them, and would approach. The two fellows with the

  handsome slave looked to one another. This girl who had been waiting was a state

  slave. Could she bear a message from someone in the Central Cylinder, say, from

  one of the many free women in the entourage of even the Ubara? Too, they may

  have remembered her from the theater, and from Aulus. Certainly the slave had

  bided her time discreetly. Could something sensitive be afoot? There were few

  about. The street was muchly deserted. The market was closed. The day was hot,

  even under the trellises. I lounged against a wall, several yards away, near a

  doorway. I did not think it would be easy to pick me out, even if one were

  interested in doing so, given the variegated patterns of light and shade, and

  the dangling vines. Too, between us, here and there, were some of the posts

  supporting the overhead trelliswork. The fellow said something to them. The two

  men immediately drew back. That interested me. It seemed that no official note

  was to be taken of this encounter, or, at least, that its content was to be

  accorded the delicacy of privity, at least in theory.

  I watched the girl approach the slave.

  She approached with rapid, small steps, her head down, her hands to the side,