by John Norman
"What of my ransom?" called the free woman. "Has it arrived?"
"No," said the pit master.
"Surely it is overdue!" she cried, grasping the bars of the cage.
"I do not know," said the pit master.
"Well, inquire!" she cried.
The pit master was silent. I did not think he was pleased. He removed his hand from my hair. Instantly I knelt, head down, near him.
"Inquire!" demanded the free woman. The pit master was silent.
"Expedite the matter!" she cried, shaking the bars. He was silent.
"Please, my handsome fellow," she wheedled.
"Lift the torch, higher," said the pit master, slowly, as though curious, to the lovely brunet slave beside him.
As none were paying me attention I dared to look up. Should the pit master turn to regard me I would instantly look down, and away. I did not wish to appear insolent, meeting his eyes. Too, I was not eager to behold again that visage.
The ceiling flickered wildly in the illumination of the torch.
Suddenly the pit master, that shambling creature, who had apparently been curious to look more closely upon something, uttered an angry noise.
The slave with the torch gasped.
She, too, it seemed, had noted something.
The free woman in the cage stepped back a little.
The pit master pointed toward the bottom of the cage. The cage, as the net had had, had various ropes attached to it. By these ropes, I surmised, once it was lowered on its chain, perhaps by some sort of windlass, it might be drawn toward the walkway.
"What is wrong?" asked the free woman.
I gathered that she might, from her words, have some conception as to what might be wrong.
"Remove the cloth," said he, "from the latch."
"No!" she wept. "Please!"
But she obeyed. The cage, apparently, opened and closed from the bottom, gated by a hinged plate. She had tied something, probably a strip of cloth from the bottom of her robes, which were ragged now, in such a way as to prevent the release of the floor. A cord, coiled on the walkway, ran to the latch. By drawing on this cord it seemed the latch could be released. She stood in the cage, over the water. In her hand was the piece of cloth.
The pit master reached to the cord which controlled the latch.
"Please, no!" she cried.
"How," asked the pit master, "is a female prisoner who is a free woman to address her jailer?"
"As 'Sir'!" she cried.
"You seem, hitherto, to have omitted that courtesy," he observed.
"'Sir,' 'Sir,' 'Sir'!" she wept.
"You must understand," he said, "that in this place you are mine."
"Yes, Sir!" she wept.
"Hold to the bars," he said.
Desperately, weeping, she clung to them. I gathered that she might have experienced something of this sort before.
He jerked the cord and it sprang the latch, and the bottom plate of the cage, she screaming with terror, I, too, crying out in terror, dropped down, on its hinge. She slipped partly through the opening, and then scrambled back within the cage, clinging to the bars, her feet trying to find some purchase there.
The cloth she had held floated down to the water.
Instantly I heard a rushing, a stirring in the water, a turmoil there, and the ripping of cloth, and an angry squealing.
I could not see what was there.
The free woman was screaming.
I almost fainted.
The pit master then went to a wheel set in the wall and, turning it, bit by bit, foot by foot, lowered the cage toward the water.
"Sir, Sir!" screamed the free woman, as the cage, foot by foot, descended.
"Show the slave the pool," said the pit master.
"Up, slave, to the wall," said the brunette with the torch.
I rose up. I could hardly stand, so frightened I was. I did not want to approach the wall too closely. I was afraid of falling. My hands were bound behind me. What if I should lose my balance? How could I protect myself?
"Closer!" said the brunet slave.
I came closer to the wall, looked, gasped, cried out in terror, and shrank back.
The free woman was hysterical in the cage.
"Look!" commanded the brunet slave.
I came forward, again, and looked. In the water, swirling about, were several dark, sleek shapes. I had never seen anything like them. They seemed like some form of rodent, but they were far too large. They were not like the six-legged creatures I had seen before, that on the ledge, that on the surface of the tower.
"Urts," said the female slave with the torch.
I saw some of these things now, their fur wet, their ears back against the sides of their heads, leaping upward, trying to reach the cage.
Then the cage stopped descending.
The free woman tried to draw herself higher into the cage.
I could see in the torchlight, a moment before it broke the surface, one of the beasts, swimming rapidly upward. Then it left the water, rushing upward from it, erupting from it, and I saw its full body, shedding water, its neck extended, its jaws open, its forepaws down against its body, streamlining its shape, its hind legs extended, it leaping upward, then yards above the surface of the torn, dark pool, and then it seemed to pause in the air, and then, snarling, just short of the cage, it dropped back into the pool. Water splashed up. It drenched the cage, the feet of the free woman. I felt it even on my body, where I stood. Other beasts, too, now essayed the leap. They, gathering force, swimming swiftly in ever widening, preparatory circles just under the water, would plunge down, yards from the cage, and then ascend rapidly, spearing upward, snapping, from the water. Then, in rage, in frustration, they would drop back in the water. Closer and closer they came. The brunet slave held the torch back that its flame might not be extinguished by the drenching water. One of the beasts caught a bottom circling bar of iron in its teeth. It swung for a moment from the cage. Its forepaws fought for purchase at the cage, but the claws scratched futilely on the dangling solid gate, forcing it back on its hinges. The free woman screamed. It snapped at the free woman, in this action losing its hold on the cage. Again she screamed, the thing just below her. Then, snarling and squealing, it fell back into the water. Its jaws had been no more than inches from the feet of the free woman. Another beast leaped upward, falling just short of her, its snout actually within the opened cage. Some beasts did not leap upward but remained patiently, tensely quiescent in a wide circle in the water, a circle ranging about the cage. They lay there, almost flat in the water, mostly submerged. One could see their nostrils, their eyes, the top of their glistening heads, the ears back against the sides of the heads. Their bodies were oriented in such a way as to face the center of the circle. The free woman could climb no higher in the cage. She clung within it, sobbing and hysterical, like a small, wet, trembling, terrified bird. Up leapt another of the beasts and it caught a hem of her ragged robes in its teeth and tore a strip from them, which it bore with it back to the dark pool. Again she screamed. I could now see a flash of calf within her robes. It was not a poorly turned calf. I thought she might be acceptable as a slave. Again and again she screamed. Then the pit master, slowly, reversed the wheel and, bit by bit, raised the cage, until it was level with the wall. The free woman clung within it, her feet drawn up. The pit master left the wheel and took the cord. He snapped it up, and the cage floor, flung up, snapped into place. To be sure, so little as another tug, like the first, would once again release it.
"Release the bars," he said to the free woman. "Stand on the floor of the cage, in its center, your hands closely at your sides."
Trembling, she obeyed.
I saw the cord taut between the hand of the pit master and the latch.
The slightest tug on the cord would spring the latch, dropping the floor of the cage, which was its gate, plunging her helplessly to the cold, dark waters below, to the jaws of the waiting beasts.
"You ar
e never again," said he, "to impede, or attempt to impede, the operation of the latch."
"Yes, Sir," she whispered.
"The cage must be such," said he, "that at any time, perhaps even when you sleep, the latch may be released. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," she said, weakly.
How helpless she was! How vulnerable must be one in such a confinement!
"Understand, too," said he, "that the cage is designed for naked, shackled, shaved-headed slave girls."
The nudity of the imprisoned slave, I supposed, aside from the usual purposes of such, such as to protect clothing from being soiled, to help her keep in mind that she is a slave, and such, is to prevent the possible use of clothing to secure the latch. The shaved-headedness of them, aside from the usual purpose of such, which is punishment, would doubtless be to prevent the attempt on their part to secure the gate by means of their hair. Shaved-headedness, of course, is not always a punishment. It is sometimes done for hygienic purposes, as on slave ships, and for safety purposes, as in factories. Too, a girl's head may be shaved simply to obtain the hair, which may then be sold. For example, our shorn hair may be sold to jobbers who deal with the manufacturers of artillery and siege equipment. Our "pelting," as it is sometimes referred to in the trade, is apparently considerably superior to hempen strands for use as catapult cordage. Slave girls, it might be mentioned, normally have long hair, as it is very beautiful, and much may be done with it, both cosmetically, so to speak, and in the furs. Too, we may even be bound with it. The shackling in such a cage, of course, aside from its common purposes, such as showing that the female is a slave, enhancing her beauty, and such, would make it difficult or impossible for her to prevent her slipping through the opening of the cage. This would particularly be the case if her hands were shackled behind her and her ankles were shackled closely together.
"I am kept in a slave cage?" she said.
"Yes," said he.
"I am a free woman," she said. "I protest!"
"Your protest is noted, and overruled," he said.
"May I remove my arms from my sides?" she asked.
"No," he said.
She continued to stand in the center of the cage, her arms at her sides. The cord was still taut between his hand and the latch.
"We have been until now indulgent with you," he said. "But you have abused our lenience. If you should dare again to attempt to interfere with the possible functioning of the cage you will find yourself within it as though you might be a slave girl. You will be shackled within it, naked, and with your head shaved. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," she said.
"You may remove your hands from your sides," he said.
Swiftly, gratefully, she seized the bars, putting her arms about them. It seemed she scarcely dared to stand on the floor of the cage, that constituting, too, its gate.
"You are gloveless," he said. "Your hands have been stripped."
"Yes, Sir," she said.
"And your feet have been stripped," he said.
"Yes, Sir," she said.
"And your face, too, as you doubtless realize," said he, "might be stripped, your features revealed to all and sundry."
"Yes, Sir," she said.
"And you realize that your body, too, might be stripped," he said, "utterly."
"Yes, Sir," she said.
"You understand all this?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," she moaned.
"Be good," he said to her.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Yes, what?" asked he.
"Yes, Sir," she said.
He went then again to the wheel, at the wall, and, turning the crank, began to raise the cage. She moaned. As the cage rose the various ropes, and the cord extending to the latch, uncoiled from their respective places. And still there were many coils left. He now raised the cage to a point much higher than it had been at first. It hung now, swinging on its chain, but a foot or two below the lofty vaulted ceiling. The torch hardly reached so high. If the latch were sprung now she would plunge perhaps twenty yards before striking the surface of the pool.
"Sir!" called the free woman, from high above. "Sir! Please, Sir!" There was a ring to her voice, from the stone of the chamber.
The pit master looked up at the cage. The brunet slave lifted the torch a little higher.
As the demonstration, or whatever it might have been, for the benefit of the free woman, and perhaps, too, for my benefit, seemed to have been concluded, I knelt. Indeed, it was hard to stand. I was shaken. I was trembling. Too, of course, in the presence of a free person, or persons, this is an appropriate, and common, posture for slaves. When a free person enters a room, unless we are serving another, or something of such a sort, we commonly kneel. Even if we are naked in the furs, we will commonly kneel, perhaps then merely to be thrown back upon them.
And so, unbidden, I knelt, a slave.
"How progress negotiations pertinent to my ransom?" she called down.
"I do not even know if there are such negotiations," he said.
"What?" she cried.
"I have no information pertaining to such," said he.
"Surely I have not been forgotten!" she cried.
"I do not know," said he.
"Surely negotiations proceed!" she exclaimed.
"Perhaps," he said.
"In this very city!" she said.
"No," said he. "Such negotiations, if there are such, would be conducted elsewhere, perhaps even thousands of pasangs away." This was, I gathered, a great distance.
"Is it not known that I am here?" she begged.
"No," said he. "It is not known that you are here."
"How long must I stay here?" called the free woman.
"I do not know," said he. "Perhaps for years, perhaps forever."
The free woman, far above us, cried out with dismay. I heard the bars shaken. I heard her weeping.
I put my head down, swiftly, for I was now illuminated by the torch.
"Stand," said he.
I struggled to my feet, as quickly as I could. If one knows what is wise for one, one obeys the men of this world instantly, and as perfectly as possible.
He took the rope which had bound my ankles and looped it about my bound wrists, behind me.
"Bend over, at the waist," said he.
I did so, and he took the double strand of the rope looped about my wrists and brought it forward, between my legs, and then looped it up and, separating the strands, passed one over my collar and then tied it to the other. In this fashion was my head held down. This is a not uncommon tie. It may also function to keep a kneeling girl's head down. It is useful in learning deference. A similar tie, but one which immobilizes the slave, utilizes a short tether running from her bound ankles to the front of her collar. In these ways any pressure which might be exerted is exerted at the back of the neck. The front of the throat is, of course, as you are doubtless well aware, easily damaged and is to be carefully protected. Similar precautions occur with several other forms of domestic animal, as well, not merely slaves. In my training, in the pens, I had occasionally been put in a choke collar. In it, I assure you that I obeyed instantly, obedient to its slightest pressure. On the other hand, such things, I think, should seldom, if ever, be used with slaves, particularly with female slaves, who tend to be beautiful, delicate and sensitive. Their use, I think, if they are used at all, should be reserved for fierce animals, such as the six-legged beasts I had seen, or perhaps for powerful warriors, or brawny, recalcitrant male slaves in the quarries or mines, captives or animals whose control may require such fierce devices. We do not need them! We know who is master. Our leash training, I assure you, may be accomplished readily with the common leash and collar, and a whip or switch. Indeed, I believe it can be more quickly and efficiently completed, as, less terrified of our lives, except to the extent that we might be found displeasing, we are, in a normal leash and collar, freer to concentrate our attention more fully on our lessons. If you are concern
ed with such things, do not fear. The whip or switch, I assure you, gives you more than ample control over us.
"Oh!" I said, for he had seized the rope running from my hands, tied behind my back, to the front of my collar, and, by means of it, threw me forcefully, stumbling, toward the passageway. Within it I stopped, gasping. He and the slave were still behind me, on the walkway about the retaining wall. I could tell their position from the torchlight. I could no longer see the cage, suspended at the top of the chamber.
"May I speak, Master?" asked the slave with the torch.
"Yes," said he.
"Do you think her ransom will be paid?" she asked.
"Let us hope so, for her sake," said he, "for I have not found her pleasing."
"Yes, Master," she said.
He then entered the passageway, shambling within, followed by the beautiful brunette, holding the torch. Her hair was long and loose. Not even a string had been given to her to dress it. It flowed about her shoulders, and behind her even to the small of her back. I envied her such hair. I had no doubt she would bring a high price. Was the coinage of beautiful women so plentiful here, in this city of raiders and warriors, I wondered, that even specimens such as she, such gems as she, who might be the centerpiece of a collection elsewhere, who might be brought to the block at the climax of an auction, labored here in the darknesses beneath the city as though she might be the lowest of slaves, subservient in a gloomy labyrinth supervised by a monster. But she could not be the lowest of slaves for I was surely lower than she. My ears were even pierced, which was, it seemed, a matter of great moment on this world. Too, I need not pity her too much, nor with fear and loathing bemoan the uniqueness of her fate, for the monster to whom she addressed the title "Master" was none other than that to which my own service and deference were due. I began, bent over, to tremble in terror. What manner of place was this? How could it be that my hands were tied behind my back, how could it be that I could not straighten up, that my head was held down, how could it be that there was a collar on my neck! How far away were the malls! But, yet, too, how vanished here were the confusions, the anomie, the pretenses, the trivialities, the meaninglessnesses, the nonrealities of my former life! In this very real place, on this far world, I found myself, for the first time in my life, very real. I was now something quite real. No longer was there doubt about my existence or my meaning. No, that was all behind me. I was now something quite real, as unimportant as it might be. I now had an identity, as lowly as it might be. It was as clear, certain, inflexible, and undeniable as the collar on my neck.