Renegades of Gor

by Norman, John;

  “‘Chloe’ is an excellent name,” he said. “I have known several slaves with that name.”

  “Do you think,” asked Aemilianus of Calliodorus, “that ‘Claudia’ is too fine a name for a slave?”

  “I think it is an excellent name for a slave,” he smiled.

  “You would,” smiled Aemilianus. I supposed that Aemilianus might think that Cosian names might be better for slaves, whereas Calliodorus might tend to approve more of names more typical of the south, say, those of Venna or Ar. I myself thought there was much to be said for both, and, indeed, for many other sorts of names, as well. Many Goreans, incidentally, as is well known, regard Earth-girl names as slave names. Aemilianus’s slave, for example, who was Gorean, was named “Shirley.”

  “I think there is little difficulty in the matter, in any event,” said Calliodorus, “whether it is a fine name or not, as she now wears it as a slave name.”

  “I think you are right,” said Aemilianus. “What do you think?” he asked me.

  “I agree,” I said. “It is now a mere slave name.” Too, of course, it might easily be changed. In the odysseys of her bondage, her name would doubtless be changed many times.

  “I wonder what will become of her,” I said.

  “She is curvaceous,” said Calliodorus. “Perhaps she will be sold to a paga tavern.”

  That was a possibility. I hoped that eventually, however, she might come into the keeping of a single master, to whom she would be a love slave. I thought that there was something in the slave now called “Claudia” which would prove to be a precious, vulnerable, yearning love slave.

  “Aemilianus, my friend,” said Calliodorus.

  “Yes?” said he.

  “It will take us some days to reach Port Cos,” said Calliodorus. “Would you mind if, tomorrow morning, the two slaves, Claudia and Publia, were made available to the crew?”

  “Of course not,” said Aemilianus.

  “We will chain them by their necks to a ring in the deck, aft,” said Calliodorus. “That way, if they are too initially dismayed, they will not be able to throw themselves overboard.”

  “By nightfall,” said Aemilianus, “I do not think they would want to throw themselves overboard.”

  “I do not think so,” agreed Calliodorus. “Too, aft, they will be out of the sight of free women.”

  “Use them as you please,” said Aemilianus.

  “My lads left Port Cos in a hurry,” said Calliodorus, “and we did not know if there would be fighting, or not. Thus we did not include among our supplies any women for slave use.”

  “No explanations are necessary,” said Aemilianus. “Too, if their masters do not object, you may avail yourself of any of the other slaves, there are a few, I believe, whom you embarked at Ar’s Station, including, of course, my Shirley.”

  Shirley shrank back, a little. To be sure, even though she was the preferred slave of Aemilianus, her use could be handed about as easily as that of the lowest collar sluts on board, Claudia and Publia.

  “I thank you for your generosity,” said Calliodorus, “and I am sure that the other fellows of Ar’s Station would be every bit as generous, but I think that after what you have been through, we would prefer, in all gentleness and courtesy, to let such slaves, including your Shirley, recollect in detail the pleasing of their own masters, perhaps amidships.”

  Shirley cried out with joy, looking upon Aemilianus.

  “As you will,” he smiled.

  “And I think,” said Calliodorus, “that the more extensive services then to be rendered by Claudia and Publia will be useful in helping them to comprehend more quickly and clearly the nature of their new condition.”

  “Undoubtedly,” smiled Aemilianus.

  “I wonder if I might ask an additional favor of you,” said Calliodorus.

  “Name it,” said Aemilianus.

  “When we enter Port Cos,” he said, “I would like to do so in such a way as to make clear from afar that there is cause for rejoicing, that our business has been successfully conducted and that festivities are in order.”

  “Do as you wish,” said Aemilianus.

  “I will, then,” he said, “with your permission, deck the ship with flags, and bunting and banners, and put prominently the flag of Ar’s Station on the port stern line, and fly that of Port Cos on the starboard stem line.”

  “How is it,” asked Aemilianus, “that you have a flag of Ar’s Station on a ship of Port Cos?”

  “One can never tell when such things might be useful,” smiled Calliodorus. “And do you noble fellows of Ar’s Station not carry flags of Port Cos, and perhaps of other towns, as well, in your vessels, perhaps in the chests in your stem castles?” That was a likely place to stow such paraphernalia. There it would both be out of the way, and yet handy.

  “Perhaps,” smiled Aemilianus.

  “Dear friend,” smiled Calliodorus.

  “Dear friend,” said Aemilianus.

  Calliodorus bent down and clasped the upraised hand of Aemilianus. I had gathered that, long ago, these men had seen action together, probably on the river.

  Calliodorus stood up.

  There was, incidentally, one flag of Ar’s Station on board which had been brought from Ar’s Station itself, but that flag, large, rent, faded and tattered, was not the one, or ones, under discussion. That was the flag which had flown at the upper battlements. It had been there, staunch and defiant, throughout the siege. It had been brought to the Tais by the young man to whom I had entrusted it, the friend of the young crossbowman. He had given it to Aemilianus, who had, in turn, given it into the keeping of Surilius, his aide. I had little doubt that that flag was very precious to those of Ar’s Station. They would be very careful as to what lines on which it might be affixed.

  “But, dear friend,” said Aemilianus, “is there not one touch else that might be in order, to indicate a successful voyage?”

  “I was thinking of asking about it,” smiled Calliodorus.

  “Hang them in chains, at the prow!” said Aemilianus.

  “Good,” grinned Calliodorus.

  The slave girl, as Claudia and Publia would come to learn, has thousands of uses. And one of them, surely, is that of a display object. It is common for masters to be very proud of their girls and to desire to show them off. Indeed, one of the reasons for slave garb, aside from such things as its identificatory role, its stimulatory nature, both to the master and slave, its instructive role, and such, is its capacity to display the girl beautifully. Just as a man of Earth might be proud of his pictures, or his dogs or horses, so, too, a Gorean can be proud of his slave, or slaves. Some men like to travel with a naked slave afoot beside them, chained by the neck to their stirrup. Some rich men enjoy having lovely slaves, sometimes strings of them, follow them, chained by the neck, the leads of the chains fastened to slave bars at the back of their palanquins. In this case, Calliodorus was apparently interested in displaying two beauties, a pair of exquisite slaves, at his prow. Certainly they, suspended naked in their chains, would enhance his entry into the harbor at Port Cos. Too, that one had been a traitress to Ar’s Station and the other had been eager to surrender to Cosians would not in any respect, when it was learned, diminish the effect.

  “I must be about my duties, my friend,” then said Calliodorus to Aemilianus. “Rest.”

  Most of the men about had, by now, drifted away.

  Calliodorus stopped for a moment, as though he wanted to say something more to Aemilianus, but he then seemed to think the better of it. He then climbed the steps behind Aemilianus, to the helm deck. I looked after him.

  “He wanted to issue warnings,” said Aemilianus, smiling.

  “Warnings?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Aemilianus. “He is a good fellow.”

  I gathered that it would be inopportune to inquire further into this matter, at least at the moment. But surely there could be little, or nothing, to fear now, at least for free persons. To be certain, the situat
ion might be quite different for slaves, such as Claudia and Publia. Before them lay bondage. They were now, I gathered, below decks, probably still in their siriks, in tiny slave cages, what, in effect, Calliodorus had led us to believe, were punishment cages.

  “Commander,” said I.

  “Yes, Warrior,” he responded.

  “I thank you for your mercy in the case of the former Lady Claudia.”

  “Was it mercy?” he asked.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “Well,” he said, “her treacheries, however heinous and grievous, considered in the light of grander and more insidious designs, seemed paltry.”

  “And doubtless were,” I said. “Is that why you spared her?”

  “I spared her primarily,” he said, “because you wished it.”

  “I am grateful,” I said. “Too, I think she will make an excellent slave.”

  “I am sure of it,” he said.

  “Even Calliodorus thought she was born for the collar,” I said.

  “She and Publia,” said Aemilianus.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I think he was right about both,” he said.

  “I think so, too,” I said.

  “My friend,” he said.

  “Yes,” I said, startled.

  “You said to her,” he reminded me, “that you had no intention of imperiling your life for her.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Yet I think, had I not spared her,” said he, “that you would have drawn your sword on her behalf.”

  “I said what I did,” I said, “because I knew it would not be necessary to imperil my life for her.”

  “How could you know that?” he asked.

  “Because Aemilianus, and those like him,” I said, “are honorable men.”

  “You were counting on that?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “And had we not, in your opinion, behaved honorably?” he asked.

  “Then I would have drawn my sword,” I said.

  “I thought so,” he said.

  “I am sorry,” I said.

  “Even were I other than I am,” he smiled, “I do not think I would have wanted you to draw your sword against us.”

  I did not respond.

  “Particularly over a woman,” he said. He held out his hand to Shirley, and she came quickly to kneel beside him and took his hand, and lifted it to her lips, kissing it, softly.

  “Of course,” I said.

  “And in particular,” said Aemilianus, “one who was soon to become a mere slave.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  Shirley, holding and pressing her lips to the hand of Aemilianus, looked up at me.

  I smiled. Swords are often drawn on Gor over women, and particularly over lovely slaves. Women are prizes, perfections and treasures. It is no wonder that men fight over them with ferocity.

  Wars have been fought to recover a stolen slave.

  I then, quietly, withdrew from the presence of Aemilianus, permitting Shirley to attend him.

  I went forward. In doing so I passed some slaves and masters, amidships. How beautiful were the slaves in their collars and brief tunics. I then proceeded farther forward, taking my way beside free women, and some children, and climbed to the tiny bow deck, forward of the stem castle, immediately behind the prow. I stood there, and looked down the river. I could see the advance ships some quarter of a pasang, or so, ahead. I wondered what the warnings of Calliodorus, if Aemilianus had read him aright, might have been about. I thought of the two women below decks, in the slave cages. I wondered what thoughts, if there were any others than those concerned with their tightness, and cramping, and pain, in the small cages, passed through their heads. Did they look back, I wondered, on the days of their freedom, or did they look forward, perhaps with fear, to what might lie ahead, to their branding and collaring, to their sale, perhaps by public auction, to the hazards and duties, the labors and perils, of their new condition, to the strangers into whose total power they would come?

  22

  Publia, Slave

  Publia lay before me, on her stomach, over a pile of rope, aft on the Tais. Her head was down. Her neck was chained to a ring in the deck.

  “You?” she said.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Please be kind to a woman who is now only a slave,” she said.

  I laughed, softly.

  She shuddered.

  She was pretty, lying on her belly, over the ropes, her head down.

  But yet, I thought, as she is a slave, surely she should be permitted to beg for kindness.

  “Do not hurt me,” she begged.

  “That is muchly up to you,” I said.

  “To me?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “I do not have any intention, at least at present, of hurting you. On the other hand, if you prove to be in the least bit disagreeable, do not fear. I will not hesitate to inflict discipline, and severe discipline, upon you.”

  “I understand,” she said.

  “You were once Lady Publia, of Ar’s Station,” I said.

  “Yes,” she said, frightened.

  “Who are you now?” I asked.

  “Publia,” she said, “a slave.”

  “Lift yourself, Publia, slave,” I said.

  She cried out, softly, perhaps not anticipating the sternness of my grip upon her.

  “Master,” she said.

  She clutched ropes in the coils on which she lay. “Ohhh,” she said, suddenly. Then she began to gasp, and make helpless noises.

  The moons were full. The slave was pretty. It was late. We were two days yet from Port Cos.

  I then crouched beside her, and turned her, and lifted her. I held her knees up, close to her belly. Her body was a small, curvaceous delight. I then put her on her back, on the coils of rope. I bent over her and then, with one hand, behind the back of her neck, gripping it, lifted her head, bringing her face beneath mine, forcing it there. I then kissed her, and let her lie back on the ropes. Her eyes were wide, and soft, and frightened.

  “You were a pretty warder,” I said.

  “I am a slave,” she whispered, “only a slave.”

  “Perhaps you desire to be pleasing?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said, fervently. “I desire to be pleasing!” She then reached out for me and put her hands behind the back of my neck. She then lifted her lips timidly to mine, fearing, it seemed, that her overture might be refused, that they might be rejected. “I do desire to be pleasing, Master,” she whispered.

  I permitted her to kiss me.

  Later we lay together, side by side.

  It was near morning now. I had waited until the crew had finished with her, until late, before I had approached her. In this way I could have more time with her. I supposed that in an Ahn or so a fellow would come by, to release her from the chain, to return her to the hold. They were no longer kept in the tiny cages. They were free in the hold, though the hatch was locked. Claudia had been put at the ring earlier and returned to the hold earlier. Publia had been put at the ring later, and would be returned to the hold later. For a time during the evening, both had been at the ring. Tomorrow night, as it was on alternate nights, Claudia would be put at the ring later, and Publia earlier.

  “On the day after tomorrow,” I said, “we reach Port Cos.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  “The ship will be decorated,” I said. “You and Claudia will be displayed at the prow.”

  “I have heard that,” she whispered. “How will we be dressed for that honor?”

  “You will be naked,” I said.

  “And in chains?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said, “or perhaps ropes. You surely know how women are displayed at prows.”

  “How will it be done?” she asked.

  “You will probably be hung there,” I said, “one on each side of the prow.”

  “Doubtless it is a great honor,” she said.

  “Ye
s,” I said.

  “But,” she said, “I gather, given the apparent desire to protect the slaves of Ar’s Station, it is only to be expected that it be Claudia and I, and we alone, who are to be accorded that honor.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But do not fear. I am sure that both of you, even if there were a cargo of superb captures aboard, would still be excellent candidates for the honor.”

  “I am not accustomed to thinking of myself as an ornament,” she said.

  “It is one of the purposes to which a slave girl may be put,” I said.

  “But now I find myself intrigued by the idea of serving so,” she whispered.

  “Oh?” I said.

  “Yes,” she whispered, “of being found so beautiful that men would display me so. Oh, I fear it, but, too, I find it exciting, and meaningful and thrilling. I am coming to understand now how marvelous it is to be beautiful and attractive to men. I feel so much myself, and so real, and female! Will not other women, I wonder, resent and hate me that it was I who was put at the prow and not they?”

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  “Sometimes, when I was a free woman,” she said, “I wondered, secretly, of course, what it might be like, to be so displayed.”

  “You will soon know,” I said.

  “Am I beautiful?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said, “and you will discover that in bondage you will become even more beautiful. Indeed, you will find you have little choice in the matter. There are many reasons for it, physical and psychological.”

  “I want to be beautiful,” she said, “and I am proud to be beautiful!”

  “Beware of free women,” I said.

  “Surely masters will protect me from serious harm,” she said.

  “They will usually endeavor to do so,” I admitted.

  “I will be proud, being put at the prow!” she said.

  “Beware of becoming too proud,” I said.

  “Master?” she asked.

  “Do you wish to be whipped again?” I asked.

  “No!” she said. She had been whipped on our second night out, from Ar’s Station.