by John Norman
Whereas the Lady Bina was extremely intelligent, she was not always well informed, nor always realistic, and, I fear, she was not always wise.
She thought very highly of herself, and justifiably.
But she knew very little of Gor, or, I suppose, of any other complex human world.
From what sort of world, I had often wondered, had she been derived.
She was certainly well aware that she was unusually beautiful.
Indeed, she seemed to believe that she might well be the most beautiful woman on Gor.
For all I knew she might be, but, too, I had little doubt that there were thousands of other quite beautiful women who entertained the same suspicion, if not conviction. It was rumored that the former Ubara, Talena of Ar, daughter of Marlenus, the current Ubar of Ar, until disowned, might have regarded herself, or been regarded by many, as the most beautiful woman on all Gor. To be sure, given all the veiling of free women, and the dispersal of the population, who can speak practically of such things? Perhaps the most beautiful woman on all Gor is in some tiny village in Torvaldsland or herding bosk on the plains of the Wagon Peoples. Too, I had little doubt there were thousands of fellows about who thought that their companion or slave was the most beautiful woman on all Gor, for any woman, even ones whose appearance might frighten tharlarion, may appear beautiful when seen through the eyes of love. No one knew where Talena might now be. A large reward had been offered for her capture and return to Ar but the reward had never been claimed. I supposed she was in a collar somewhere. Certainly if she were as beautiful as many said, it would be almost certain she would have a collar on her neck. For some fellows, Goreans, having such a woman in a collar might be worth more than what she will bring in gold, thrown stripped and shackled to the foot of a Ubar’s throne. But, of course, for others, the gold might be preferred. Much would depend on the man, and here men are the masters. I was pleased I was not Talena of Ar.
I have suggested that the Lady Bina, my Mistress, while highly intelligent, may not have been as informed as would have been desirable, or as wise as might be desired, or such. In some respects she was an interesting, indeed, a remarkable, combination of vanity, ambition, and naivety.
I dared not speak to her of such things, even in hintings or allusions, as I was only a slave, and was now well aware of that, and her mind was muchly made up, and even the concerned, well-intentioned counsels of the beast were ineffective. He, though a stranger to Gor, was at least no stranger to matters of rank, distance, and hierarchy, no stranger to questions of status, no stranger to probabilities, nor to politics and political relationships.
In short, the Lady Bina, counting on her unusual beauty, and well aware of its usual effect on men, and bolstered by an unchastened vanity, one as yet little bruised by the contact with reality, planned to become, however unlikely or incredible it might seem, literally the Ubara of Ar, Gor’s greatest city, unless it be rivaled by Turia, in the far south. She seemed to believe that little more would be necessary to bring this astonishing elevation about than bringing herself to the attention of the Ubar or his advisors.
“Do not proclaim such ambitions,” warned the beast. “You will be thought mad.”
“But I am not mad,” she said.
“No,” said the beast, “but you do not understand these things, at all.”
“How so?” she asked.
Once again I wondered about her background, her seeming lack of socialization, and such. How could she understand so little? Might it not have been better if she had undergone some frustrations and disappointments? Had she no sense of her place, or her limitations, or that limitations even existed? Did she think that only a dozen or so individuals might be involved, as in a tiny village? Ar was profound and complex, socially and economically. Her population consisted of hundreds of thousands of citizens. Most did not even know one another. What were her antecedents? What had been her experiences? Again, from what sort of world had she derived? It was as though she had been told of something important and precious, say, a particular jewel, and had decided she would have it. Did she not know that a jungle, formidable and dangerous, exacting and competitive, existed in the streets of Ar, a jungle which, as in many communities, for all its reality, was invisible?
“A Ubar, a great lord, a potentate,” said the beast, “does not companion casually or lightly. There are slaves for that sort of thing, hundreds, scattered about in various pleasure gardens. He companions to forge alliances, protect borders, acquire cities, extend dominions, obtain access to trade routes, a port on the shores of Thassa. You are unknown, and unconnected, you bring no cities or armies into his grasp, no fleets, or cavalries of tarns. You do not even have a Home Stone.”
I knew little of Home Stones, at that time.
Nor would I be permitted one, as I was a slave. Sleen, kaiila, verr, and such, other animals, too, have no Home Stones.
“I see,” said the Lady Bina. “Things would then be difficult.”
“A Ubar might companion a Ubara from another city, a coveted city, one of wealth and power, or companion the daughter of another Ubar, of such a city, such things.”
“I see,” she said, not pleased.
As I knelt in the background, inconspicuous but at hand, I saw that the Lady Bina was not so much dissuaded of her astonishing ambition, as convinced that its realization might be less easily achieved than hitherto anticipated.
“Occasionally,” said the beast, “a Ubar may companion the Ubara of a captured city, forcing companionship, however unwelcome, upon her, making of her free spoils, so to speak, thereby, as she is then companioned, entitling himself legally to the wealth of her treasury and the allegiance of her subjects. In such a case she may sit beside him, on a throne, within her fine robes, chained.”
“I suppose,” said the Lady Bina, “he may do this severally.”
“No,” said the beast, “for one may have but one companion, at one time.”
I had no doubt, of course, that a Ubar, or, indeed, any person of means, might have several slaves.
“What if a second Ubara is conquered?” asked the Lady Bina.
“You are thinking of companioning?” asked the beast.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then the Ubara of less consequence,” he said, “will be demoted to bondage, and then kept, or put up for sale, or such.”
“But surely,” she said, “companioning is not always involved in such matters.”
“Certainly not,” he said. “The conqueror holds rights to all in virtue of the right of conquest, in virtue of war rights. The usual ensuance in such matters is that the conquered Ubara will be marched naked in the triumph, chained to the stirrup of the victor’s tharlarion or kaiila, after which she, and the women of her court, similarly paraded, will serve naked at the victory feast, during which they will be enjoyed, and after which, in the morning, they will be lashed and fitted with their collars.”
“I see,” she said.
“Accordingly,” said the beast, “abandon your unrealistic ambition.”
“Perhaps if I presented myself at the Central Cylinder,” she said.
“I would not do so,” said the beast. “You lack a Home Stone.”
“So?” she said.
“You might be collared,” he said. “Sometimes unauthorized women are rounded up and held for bidding, house biddings, thence to be distributed amongst the various slave houses of the city.”
“I suppose there are others of wealth and power,” she said, “other than Ubars, in a city such as this.”
“Doubtless,” said the beast.
“But,” she said, “I think a throne would be nice.”
“Perhaps,” said the beast.
The Lady Bina then cast me a glance, which made me uneasy. That night, when the beast was absent, the Lady Bina summoned me to her.
She entrusted to me a message, which was written in black ink on cheap rence paper, in simple block letters, at that time almost childishly formed l
etters, as she, for all her dexterity and intelligence, was still far from adept in Gorean. Certainly she was not yet the mistress of cursive script.
I had learned from the laundry troughs that a lady’s notes, having to do with her small secrets, private exchanges, intrigues, affairs, arrangements, assignations, rendezvous, and such, were generally carefully crafted, written in a tasteful, dainty script, usually on small sheets of fine linen paper, or parchment, subtly scented, and attractively sealed. There would be no doubt that their authors were women of refinement, breeding, sensitivity, taste, and intelligence. Surely much thought went into these things, well beyond the delicacy of the message itself. After all, the ink, the paper, or parchment, the script, the perfume, the seal, and so on, are, I suppose, in their way, a part of the message itself. Do they not themselves convey much without a word being spoken? In content the letters were often carefully ambiguous, designed to seem to promise much but guarantee little. I supposed the Gorean free woman was entitled, as with her veils and concealing robes, to balance concealment with revelation, mystery with the hint of possible abandon, even rampant disclosure.
A Gorean saying, seldom heard in the presence of free women, has it that beneath the robes of every free woman there is a naked slave.
These notes, of course, are commonly carried about by the woman’s slaves, often concealed within their tunics.
Discretion is of the essence.
And then one hears about it at the laundry troughs.
I had no doubt that many a fellow’s breath came faster, and his heart beat more rapidly, when he received such a note.
“May I inquire, Mistress,” I asked, “the content of the note which I am to carry?”
At that time I did not realize how unwise was such a question. Happily, at least at that time, the Lady Bina lacked many of the habits, dispositions, and responses of the Gorean free woman.
“Certainly,” she said. “I am proposing myself to be Ubara of Ar.”
“I see,” I said. “Is Master Grendel to be informed of this?”
“No,” she said. “He might not approve.”
I did not doubt that.
“You will leave in the morning,” she said, “at dawn, as though on a common errand. Indeed, I will give you two tarsk-bits and you may later purchase some larmas which we may press for breakfast.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
In that way, I supposed, my true mission, that of import, might be judiciously veiled.
“Now,” she said, “relieve yourself, and we will chain you for the night.”
“I need not be chained, Mistress,” I said. “I will not run away.” Indeed, where would one run? By noon I had little doubt but what I would be returned, bound, on a leash, to the house of Epicrates.
“I suppose not,” she said. “But the Lady Delia has told me that a slut like you belongs on a chain.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
I knew that males commonly kept their girls chained at night, usually to the foot of their couch, where they might be conveniently at hand, if desired in the night. In larger houses, girls were sometimes slept in their cages, perhaps to help them keep in mind that they are animals, and thus suitably caged.
The Lady Bina, perhaps on the advice of the Lady Delia, chained me so that my mat would lie across the threshold, at the height of the stairs. My left ankle was chained on one side of the portal and my right wrist on the other side. In this way an intruder would have to pass me, indeed, step over me, and, in this passage, would be likely to be discovered. The left ankle is the ankle most commonly chained, probably because most masters are right-handed. Too, it is the ankle most often fitted with bells or an ankle ring, presumably for the same reason. And I was right handed. Master Grendel slept on the roof. Were I a slaver, or a raider, I do not think I would have cared to have my tarn alight in his vicinity.
Master Grendel, as the Lady Bina apparently was not, was well aware of the possible jeopardy in which an unguarded free woman might find herself on Gor. Too, she had no Home Stone, no family, no clan, no caste.
I wondered if the beast was aware of how beautiful the Lady Bina actually was, how attractive she might prove to a human male. Probably not, I thought. She was not of his kind. He, a beast, would be unaware of such things.
The next day, about the Seventh Ahn, miserable and sore, walking stiffly, I had returned to the second floor of the house of Epicrates.
“What is wrong?” asked Master Grendel.
“Put the larmas here,” said the Lady Bina. “Is there change?”
“A tarsk-bit,” I said.
“You are improving in your bargaining,” said the Lady Bina.
“I did not let them know I had two,” I said.
“Excellent,” she said. “She is clever,” she said to the beast.
One learns such things.
“Why are you bruised?” asked the beast.
“No matter,” said the Lady Bina.
“No,” said the beast. “Why?”
I looked to the Lady Bina, frightened.
“You may speak, Allison,” she said.
“Soldiers,” I said.
I had not been within a hundred paces of the Central Cylinder when a lowered spear had blocked my way.
I had made clear my business, that I was to deliver a message to the Ubar, or to some high officer, who might then convey it to him, and the note was then taken from me by an officer, not of high rank, perhaps the commander of a ten, who read it, laughed uproariously, slapped his thigh, and then, to my unease, shared it with others, while I knelt.
It, and its bearer, were obviously the cause of much amusement.
“Is there an answer, Master?” I had asked.
“Yes,” he said, and availed himself of a marking stick, and wrote something on the back of the note.
Still kneeling, I took the note.
“Thank you, Master,” I said.
“Is your ‘Mistress’ free?” asked the officer.
I fear he thought some jest was afoot, perhaps sprung from the humor of some fellow officer.
“Certainly Master,” I said.
Surely a mistress would be free.
“We will give you something for her then,” he said. Then to four of his subordinates, he said, “Seize and spread her wrists and ankles and belly her.”
“Master?” I said.
“This,” said he, “is for your Mistress.”
He then, and some others, with feet and spear butts, belabored a slave.
I wept with misery.
“Here is one for your Mistress!” said a fellow.
“And here is another!” said another fellow.
“And another!” said yet another.
“Aii!” I cried. “Please no, Masters! Please, no, Masters!”
Then I was released, and lay before them, on the stones, sobbing, and bruised, a beaten slave.
One may not, of course, strike a free woman. They are not to be struck. They are to be held immune from such corporeal indignities. They are free. Indeed, there are penalties for such things. On the other hand, I then learned, and later confirmed, that a slave may stand proxy for a Mistress’s punishment.
Supposedly this is disconcerting to the free woman, and she much suffers, being outraged, scandalized, and humiliated at her subjection to this vicarious chastisement.
The Lady Bina, however, who knew little of Gorean culture, failed to detect the insult intended, and bore up well under the ordeal.
“I do not think anything is broken,” said the beast.
“No,” I said.
When a slave is beaten the point is usually to correct her behavior, or improve her, not to injure or maim her.
Still they had not been gentle.
“It is past the Seventh Ahn, Allison,” said the Lady Bina. “Did you dally, flirting about the stalls and shops?”
“No, Mistress,” I said. I had been pleased, incidentally, that I had seen nothing of the offensive Metal Worker
, for whom I had looked, the better to avoid him, of course. Certainly I would not have wished him to see me as I was then, stiff and aching, miserable and bruised.
“Four larmas for a tarsk-bit, especially in the morning, is quite a good buy,” said the Lady Bina.
“I did smile at the stallsmen,” I said.
“Excellent,” said the Lady Bina. “Men are such manipulable weaklings.”
“Some men,” said the beast.
“Squeeze the larmas,” said the Lady Bina. “There are biscuits, and honey breads, in the pantry.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
“Wait,” said the beast. “There was a response to the note?” he said.
“Written on its back,” I said.
“It will not be important,” said the Lady Bina.
The large paw, five-digited, like a human hand, was thrust toward me, and I withdrew the note from my tunic, and, head down, handed it to the beast.
The beast perused the note.
Apparently he could read, unless he was merely taking the scent of the hand which had written the note.
“Oh!” I said, for the beast then did something which seemed shockingly incomprehensible. The lips of the beast drew back about its fangs, and it uttered a snorting exhalation of air, and then, three or four times, it leapt into the air and spun about.
I was muchly alarmed.
The beast was very large, and I did not know its ways. Had it gone suddenly, unexpectedly insane the apartment might have been damaged, and life lost. How long might such a behavior, or fit, endure? I backed away, on my hands and knees, terrified. The Lady Bina, on the other hand, seemed more annoyed than frightened.
I gathered she was familiar with such spontaneous, apparently irrepressible, exhibitions.
“Surely,” she said, “it is not so amusing as all that.”
Apparently the beast could read.
Such exhibitions I would later learn may, with slight variations, betoken enthusiasm or jubilation, high spirits, the appreciation of a deft witticism, an excellent move in a game, pleasure at unexpectedly glimpsing a friend, a fine shot in archery, a victory in the arena, one’s foe slaughtered at one’s feet, a splendid jest, and such.
