“Who are you?” I asked.
“Claudia, Lady of Ar’s Station,” she said.
“Where were you caught?” I asked.
“On the parapet,” she said. “I did not even know I was suspected until I felt the rope on my neck.”
I sat down in the straw, facing the door. “Tell me of these things,” I said.
“Doubtless my story, in its way, is not much different from yours,” she said.
“Perhaps,” I said.
She spoke more freely, not under my eye.
“I did not receive the promotion and advancement which were my due here,” she said. “I wanted even missions to Ar herself, but others were chosen in my place. How wrong this was!”
“Continue,” I said.
“I am a beautiful and brilliant person,” she said. “Yet my perfections were insufficiently rewarded.”
“Perhaps you are only a pretty mediocrity,” I said.
“My talents were ignored,” she said, angrily.
I thought she might, if only latently, have excellent woman talents.
“Then the Cosians were upon us,” she said. “We were all in fear of our lives. It became clear, after weeks, that Ar was not coming to our rescue. It would be everyone for himself. The clever must save themselves. I would be clever. Sometimes at night the women go to the parapets, to lower baskets with money, for food. Some women, as you probably know, particularly those without money, stripped themselves and lowered themselves over the wall, surrendering to the first Cosian they met, selling themselves into slavery for so little as a crust of bread or a handful of gruel.”
There was still food, though it seemed not much of it in the city. For example, even she, a caught spy, was still being fed. The women who did this, I suspected, lowering themselves naked over the wall, their bodies brushing and touching the stone in their descent, had had motivations deeper than hunger. Hunger, however, might have provided a convenient and excellent rationalization for their action. The nudity of the suppliants, of course, was only to be expected. Stripping themselves, baring their breasts, and such, is natural for female suppliants before men. The nudity, too, would make clear their intent, and make it less likely that they might, in the darkness, be slain as mere fugitives. Nudity, too, makes it difficult to conceal weapons. For example, sometimes, when slaves are taken to Ubars, and such, they are stripped and wrapped in a scarlet sheet, if they are “red silk,” and in a white sheet, if they are “white silk.” They are then placed in the master’s chambers, often through a panel in the door, the sheet remaining behind. A girl normally makes the journey only once in a white sheet, of course. Nudity, all in all, is not uncommon in women surrendering to men. It is also not uncommon, of course, in slaves presenting themselves before masters.
“I see,” I said.
“But such was not for such as I,” she said. “I had no wish to risk being hooded and chained in a crossing stall in Tyros, being used to breed quarry slaves for Chenbar, the Sea Sleen.”
I rather doubted that she, who was slight, delicious and well-curved, would have had to fear that fate. Too, most women would spend very little time in a crossing stall. How long, after all, she placed there without slave wine, at the exactly ideal moment in her breeding cycle, does it take to impregnate a slave? Most such slaves are used in this fashion only once or twice, and then they are assigned other duties.
“I formed the habit of going to the wall with the other women, “fishing,” as we spoke of it. I made certain, of course, that I went to the same place on the wall at the same time each night. The first few times I put money in the basket. Later, when I increased the amount of money, I received some bread and vegetables. Can you imagine? A silver tarsk for a few suls?”
“The prices are higher now,” I said. I recalled there had been a golden tarn disk in the basket which had been lowered to me at the foot of the wall.
“Then,” she said, “I began to put messages in the basket, innocent ones at first, asking questions about the position of the relieving forces, and such.”
“I understand,” I said.
“But my intent seemed quickly grasped,” she said, “for shortly thereafter, with food, concealed under the cloth, in the bottom of the basket, were questions pertaining to conditions in the city.”
“Did you respond to these?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“You were at that point a spy,” I said.
“I did not think so, yet,” she said. “Such information was surely general knowledge.”
“Not necessarily to those outside the city,” I said. “To be sure, there are usually informers, if not traitors, sometimes several, who can be relied upon for such details.”
“The next time I drew up the basket,” she said, “there was a very specific question, concealed in a wedge of Sa-Tarna bread. ‘Are you for Cos?’ it asked. The next night I lowered the answer, ‘Yes.’”
“You were then a traitress,” I said.
“Ar’s Station had betrayed me!” she said. “It had not given me what I wanted! It had not even given me missions to Ar. Too, do you think that I, a person such as I, wanted to remain out here, on the Vosk River, all my life?”
“What happened then?” I asked.
“I then made clear my position, that I would bargain, and bargain severely.”
“You requested food?” I asked.
“I had food,” she said. “I had hoarded it from the beginning of the siege, even buying it up when it was cheap, early in the siege, when it was still thought that Ar, any day, would arrive with her banners fluttering in the wind, dispelling the Cosians like the sun the fogs on the river!”
“For gold then?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, “for gold, and jewels!”
“It seems you have little gold and few jewels now,” I said.
I heard her move angrily in the straw.
“Once you had declared for Cos,” I said, “I think you would have been wise not to begin bargaining for monetary returns.”
“Why not?” she said.
“Because you had declared for Cos,” I said. “Cosians, like those of Ar, or elsewhere, expect those whose allegiance has been freely given to serve as those who have given their allegiance freely, and not as merchants or mercenaries.”
“What difference does it make?” she asked.
“Occasionally such things mean the difference between riches and a collar,” I said.
“I protected myself in my bargaining against such possibilities,” she said, “demanding, as conditions of my cooperation, not only riches but my safety and freedom.”
“That you not be made a slave, for example.”
“Yes,” she said.
“But, suppose,” said I, “that in the meantime, perhaps by others, you had been made a slave.”
“Then that,” she said, “would be the end of it. I would then be a slave. A slave is a slave.”
“True,” I said. The Cosians had agreed not to make her a slave, not to free her, if she had already been made a slave. As she had said, a slave is a slave.
“I, too, demanded power in Ar’s Station, should the city not be destroyed, for there were those here, those who had not granted me preferments, on whom I would have my vengeance. I even wanted some of the women consigned to me as slaves, so that I could sell them to men.”
“You were thorough,” I said.
“Yes,” she said.
“You needed then only count on the honor of Cos.”
“Men are honorable,” she said.
“So, too, are some women,” I said.
“My allegiance is to myself,” she said, angrily.
“There are dispositions for women such as you,” I said.
“I do not understand,” she said.
“Proceed,” I said.
“My terms agreed to,” she said, “I received extremely specific instructions. These instructions pertained to the supply of information on various topics, matters
pertaining to supplies within the city, the condition of the gates and walls, and which were the weaker and less defended points, the numbers of the active garrison, civilian and military, the relative distributions and dispositions of these components, the numbers of the ready militia, the posting of guardsmen, the timing of their watches, and such. I could not find out such things as the signs and countersigns. Too, I understand they are changed daily.”
“Generally,” I said.
“Bit by bit,” she said, “I parceled out such information, as I could acquire it, each night. To be sure, some of the things I could not learn. In return I now received gold and jewels.”
I smiled.
“Did you make your name known to your confidant, or more likely, confidants, at the foot of the wall?” I asked.
“I was too clever for that,” she said. “I did, however, demand, and receive, a letter of safety, and an acknowledgment of services rendered, made out to the bearer.”
“You are a clever woman,” I said.
“I am extremely clever,” she said.
“How came you then to be naked in a cell?” I asked.
She made a tiny, angry noise.
“Continue,” I said.
“Perhaps I had excited suspicion,” she said. “Perhaps guardsmen had noted my appearance frequently on the wall, at the same time and place. Once I had to strike another girl away from my place, fighting her for it. She did not understand my intensity. She had thought it perhaps only an excellent place for ‘fishing.’ But it was my place! Perhaps my inquiries in the city, or my going about, examining places, had been noticed. Perhaps suspicions had been cast upon me by enemies. Perhaps some were angry that I had not had my hair cut for catapult cordage. Perhaps they were jealous of my beautiful hair! But I was a free woman! They could not make me have my hair cut, make me cut my beautiful hair!”
Her hair, now, of course, had been cropped.
I heard a small sound outside the cell, perhaps someone passing in the corridor outside. It must be, I thought, in the neighborhood of noon.
“Continue,” I said.
“I grew bold,” she said. “I would be rich. I saw Ar’s Station, to my satisfaction, grow weaker each day. But when it fell, I would be safe! Too, I would have my vengeance on my enemies!”
“The city, of course, would be likely to be destroyed,” I said.
“Either way I would have my vengeance,” she said.
“I see,” I said.
“Too,” she said, “as you may recall, I had reserved my pick of certain women, to be consigned to me as slaves.”
“Personal enemies?” I said.
“Of course,” she said.
“Whom you might then sell to men?”
“Yes,” she said. “And that pleasure would presumably remain mine even if Ar’s Station were burned to the ground, and salt cast upon the ashes!”
“Of course,” I said.
“And so I went again to the wall, as I had so many times,” she said. “This time the papers hidden in my basket pertained to the defenses at the great gate, the posting of guardsmen, the arrangement of their watches, and such. I put the basket over the wall, through the same crenel, and had begun to lower it. I had even feigned some weakness on the parapet, stumbling a little, as though I might be faint with hunger. I thought that I had acted skillfully. My attention was on the rope and basket. Then I felt the loops of a rope put about my neck, closely, tightly, and I was drawn backward. ‘Do not make a noise,’ said a voice. But I could not have made a noise, had I wished, so tight was the rope. I had wanted to drop the basket but I had had no opportunity to do so. There were three men. As one man had put his rope on me, making me his prisoner, another had taken the rope from my hands. A third, standing back, had a dark lantern. I had not even heard them approach. It took them only a moment, in the unshuttering of the dark lantern, to rifle beneath the cloth and money in the basket and find the papers. Their nature was immediately determined. I was immediately stripped. The rope which had made me its prisoner was then fastened on my neck as a tether. My clothing was put in the basket and lowered. I gathered that the nature of its message would not be lost on him, or those, below. The rope was then drawn up again and removed from the basket. My arms were then bound tightly to my sides with it, in what seemed a hundred coils. It is hard for me to make clear to you how helpless I felt. I was then drawn to my home, where my money and jewels were found, notes of my next reports, and the letter of safety, with the acknowledgment of services. I was then conducted as I was, bound and naked, on a tether, before Aemilianus. I was knelt before him, so. The evidence pertinent to my case, both from the parapet and from my home, was presented before him. That very night, I was put in this cell, as I am.”
“And you now await the pleasure of those whom you betrayed,” I said.
“Yes,” she said. In her voice there was terror.
I heard a sound behind the door, the placing of a pan on a stone.
“And what is your story?” she asked.
“I am a courier of Gnieus Lelius, Regent of Ar,” I said, “mistaken for a spy.” I was sure that there was significant treachery in Ar, and in high places. The regent’s message, I was sure, had been removed from, or had never been inserted in, the letter cylinder. A substitution had been made, doubtless, of the contents of the cylinder or of cylinders themselves. I had not, of course, seen the regent place the message in the cylinder and seal it. There would be nothing unusual in that, of course, for it is not required that couriers be present at such times. Seldom are they privy to the councils of state. Normally they simply receive the sealed letter or closed cylinder, or such, from a subordinate, later, and are on their way.
“No!” she said. “You are lying! You are trying to save yourself! You, too, are a spy!”
“Perhaps,” I said.
The observation panel in the door slid back. Lady Claudia quickly hurried forward, to kneel a few feet before the door, back from it, thusly, but in easy view from the panel. “Kneel beside me,” she whispered, tensely. “We are fed but once a day!” I saw no one in the observation panel. I remained sitting, as I was. “Kneel beside me,” begged Lady Claudia. I then heard something like a stool or platform scrape on the stones outside the door. A moment later I saw a head rise up behind the panel, that of a child or woman. I could see little, but it seemed to be a delicate head, covered closely with a white, scarflike turban, and I saw deep eyes, and a bit of veil, over the bridge of a fine, delicate nose.
“I see, Lady Claudia,” said a woman’s voice, from behind the door, amused, “that you will not be so lonely now.”
“Glory to Ar!” cried Lady Claudia, frightened. Then she turned to me. “Kneel beside me,” she begged, “or we will not be fed!”
I knelt beside her, and the woman behind the door laughed. Then she snarled, “Spies!” I did not think I could get my hand through the panel, it was too narrow. “Glory to Ar,” said the woman behind the door.
“Glory to Ar! Glory to Ar! Glory to Ar!” cried Lady Claudia. Then she turned, distraught, to me. I had been silent. “Please!” she begged.
“Glory to Ar,” I said, three times.
The woman behind the door laughed.
I wished I had a way to get my hands on her. Her turbaned, veiled head then disappeared from behind the opened panel and, a bit later, the low panel slid back and a pan of water was slid partway beneath the door. Lady Claudia went to it and took it back to the right, where she emptied it in a small, shallow cistern in the cell. She then slid it back under the door, and returned to kneel where she had been before. It did not seem probable I could get my hand well through the low portal, to seize an ankle or wrist. It was worth consideration, of course. A male warder, taller, could see through the observation panel, and determine that we were kneeling in our proper places, at the same time that he might shove pans beneath the door with his foot. The woman, however, would not be tall enough for that.
Her head again appeared behind
the panel.
“Food pan forward,” she said.
Lady Claudia immediately fetched a shallow pan from the side and put it about five feet in front of where she now again knelt. I gathered she had been well trained in these feeding procedures. Presumably to have put the pan forward earlier, before receiving the order, or permission, would have been regarded as presumptuous, and perhaps have resulted in its remaining empty for the day.
“You are pretty, naked, Lady Claudia,” said the voice.
Lady Claudia choked back a sob.
“Glory to Ar!” said the voice behind the door, sternly.
“Glory to Ar!” cried Lady Claudia, three times. I repeated this formula, as well, three times.
The head then disappeared again from the panel. At the same there was a tiny scrape, as of wood on stone, probably from a platform on which she had stood. There was then silence, no sound of pans, or such. I quickly, to the consternation of Lady Claudia, moved to the observation panel and looked through it. I saw the warder going down the corridor. She was barefoot, and wore tatters which barely covered her calves. These tatters appeared to be the remains of what had perhaps once been a double dress, now shortened. The hems of both the inner and outer skirt, doubtless in their shortenings, had been deeply serrated, each in a series of some seven or eight large, triangular points. These points were alternated in such a way that those of the inner skirt appeared between those of the outer skirt. Thus, though the general appearance of the garment suggested rags, they were, in their way, contrived rags. In a way, though she perhaps did not understand this, they invited a man to their removal. Perhaps it was her hope that if the city fell such a garment might save her life, sparing her for the collar. The white, scarflike turban on her head, I supposed, was a vanity, to conceal shortly cropped hair. The veil, of course, was appropriate for a free female. I observed her calves, her bare feet, the cleverly contrived rags she wore. Perhaps she had already rehearsed how she would surrender herself to a man. If the time came, I was sure, stern warder though she might pretend to be, she would submit herself quickly enough and appropriately enough, ending her farce, accepting nudity and a collar, to a master. She bent down and picked up a bucket, and, before she turned back, I left the observation panel and returned to my place.
Renegades of Gor Page 24
