Norman, John - Gor 23 - Renegades of Gor.txt

by Renegades of Gor [lit]

  “She is a slave,” she said. “She should not be happy, She should be miserable

  and unhappy!”

  “Doubtless, if you owned her,” I said, “you could make her so.”

  “I suppose she is beautiful,” she said, “and owned. I suppose some low men might

  find them attractive.”

  “Yes,” I said, “and Ubars, and such.”

  “I am not a slave,” she said.

  “I understand,” I said. Certainly she was not a legal slave, or at least not

  yet. She was not, technically, at least at present, a slave in the eyes of the

  law, as an animal is an animal in the eyes of the law, a tarsk a tarsk, a vulo,

  so soft and pretty, a vulo.

  “Men are not my masters,” she said.

  “I see,” I said.

  “How pleased I am that I am not one of those women who must crawl about the feet

  of men, licking and kissing, and groveling, and begging to be found pleasing!”

  “I understand,” I said.

  She suddenly jerked at the manacles which confined her wrists. They were well on

  her.

  “Why are you angry?” I asked.

  (pg.84) “I am not angry,” she said.

  She looked down at her wrists, in the steel, joined by the chain.

  “You look well in shackles,” I said.

  She put her hands on her thighs, the chain bunched then between them.

  “He did not want me,” she said.

  “True,” I said.

  “I was rejected!”

  “Not every woman is attractive to every man,” I said, “and, too, you are a free

  woman.”

  “I don’t care!” she said. “I am free!”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “How pleased I am that I am not subject to use,” she said. “Thus, even thought I

  must shamefully serve, I can still, ultimately, retain my pride and dignity.”

  “I doubt that that fellow would have been overly concerned with such niceties,”

  I said.

  “No,” she said, shuddering, “I suspect not.”

  I glanced at the fellow at the other table. He was now giving his orders to the

  beautiful slave. She was kneeling back. She must now relate to him as a mere

  waitress. I suspected he would manage to get more than porridge, even this late.

  “Do you want anything else?” asked Lady Temione, irritatedly. I saw that she was

  terribly jealous of the attention which men might bestow upon the slave, but how

  could that be, for she was, by her own account, infinitely superior to the

  slave, and she was free? Too, she was, according to her own account, not

  interested in such things.

  “Anything else, what?’ I inquired.

  “Anything else, Sir,” she said, acidly.

  She was at table service. Surely the keeper would wish her to observe proper

  amenities.

  “Are you being suitably deferential?” I asked.

  “Of course, Sir, she said, unpleasantly.

  Her attitude amused me. Although she had, doubtless, some theoretical

  understanding that she was subject to discipline, she was not yet fully aware,

  as is a female slave, of how such realities might affect her situation. Too, she

  had not (pg.85) even been informed that she was, in truth, subject to guest use.

  “Perhaps you would like to fetch a slave whip?” I asked.

  “No, Sir,” she said, quickly. “Please, no, Sir.” I gathered then she had at

  least seen slave girls whipped, or after they had been whipped. She would have

  some idea of what the whip could do to a woman. it is an excellent correctional

  device for female behavior.

  “No,” I said.

  “No?” she said.

  “No,” I said, “I do not want anything else, just now, here.”

  “Would you truly have whipped me?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Sir’s waitress requests permission to withdraw,” she said.

  “It is granted,” I said.

  She then performed obeisance.

  “No,” I said, “do not rise. Withdraw on all fours.”

  “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” she said.

  “You may leave,” I informed her.

  She then turned about and began to make her way toward the kitchen. For an

  instant I saw her lift herself, as though inadvertently, and then, with a sob,

  she hurried on.

  I rose to my feet, the small, hinged tablet on my hand. The bill was inscribed

  on the waxed surface within. It totaled five copper tarsks. When I added that to

  my current bill, it would come to nineteen copper tarsks. I must remember to

  pick up the blankets with the ostrakon at the keeper’s desk.

  I looked over at the bearded fellow, the fellow of the company of Artemidorus of

  Cos. The slave had now left his table, to fetch his meal. I wondered what might

  be in the rectangular pouch he carried, that which he seemed concerned to keep

  with him at all times. He had taken it with him even into the baths. He had a

  tarn, I recalled.

  I then made my way to the keeper’s desk. The keeper was not up now, but an

  attendant was there. He checked the tablet and added the five tarsks to my bill.

  He retained the tablet. It would be smoothed, thus erasing it, and would

  probably then be hung with others, on nails, in the kitchen, ready to be used

  (pg.86) again. I picked up my ostrakon, on which was inscribed the number of my

  space, and the two blankets. I had paid the blanket rental earlier. Before I

  left the keeper’s desk, I also had the attendant add a tarsk bit to my bill.

  6 Some Things which Occurred One Night at the Crooked Tarn

  (page 87) There were one hundred sleeping place, or positions, on the third

  level in the south wing, although no space was numbered “100.” What counted for

  the hundredth space, so to speak, was a “zero” space in the front, left-hand

  corner, as one entered the level. In the light of a few dim tharlarion-oil lamps

  one could see the large numbers posted high on the wall, to the left and the

  back. The rows, from the front moving back, were numbered zero through 9; the

  columns, from left to right, were similarly numbered. One determines the spaces

  then, rather as on a cipher chart, by the intersection of numbers. The farthest

  space to the left and front, as one entered, then was space “zero” and the

  farthest space to the back and the right was ‘99”. As the first line in Gorean

  writing moves from the left to the right, according to conventions the numbers

  to the left would be first numbers designating the space. For example, the

  intersection of row 7 with column 3 would be space 73, not space 37. Similarly

  the space farthest to the back on the left, as one enters, would be space 90,

  the intersection of row 9 with column 0, and the space farthest to the right, in

  the front, as one enters, was 9, the intersection of row 0 with column 9. This

  arrangement makes it possible, at a glance, to see exactly where one’s space

  lies. My space, as I disco
vered, was not as bad as the keeper had suggested. It

  was not in a corner, but it was, at least, at a wall. Had there been walkways

  bordering the (pg.88) sleeping area it would not have been bad at all.

  Unfortunately there were no walkways.

  One fellow cried out, suddenly, with pain. “Sorry, Sir,” I said. I inadvertently

  struck another with my pack. The light was not good.

  I decided I had better stay rather where I was for a moment or so, to let my

  eyes better adjust to the darkness. I did however, take the precaution of moving

  out of the reach of the fellow I had struck with my pack. He could not reach me

  now, without risking stumbling across a couple of other fellows, big ones, too.

  I did not think walkways would be a bad idea. To be sure, I suppose, then, one

  could get fewer spaces of the same size into the area. The keeper was probably

  balancing out the advantages of reasonably sized sleeping spaces, a yard or so

  wide, in keeping with his concept of the first-class inn, for the area, with the

  largest number of them he could put in a given area. Keepers, merchants, and

  such, have problems of that sort. The second and third levels, incidentally,

  were reached by narrow stairs, rather than ladders, as in some inns. Doubtless

  that convenience could considerably strengthen the keeper’s case that he was

  maintaining a first-class establishment, at least for the area. I did not know.

  Perhaps he was. Certainly he charged enough. Too, my friend, the bearded fellow

  of the company of Artemidorus, whom I had not had to kill, had elected to stay

  here, and he looked like the sort who would certainly avail himself of the

  finest accommodations in an area.

  There was some squirming to my left, and, as my eyes grew more accustomed to the

  light, I saw a couple entwined. At first I supposed they might be companions,

  sharing a space. The female seemed to be making small angry noises, then

  frightened noises. A large piece of cloth, probably her veil, had been thrust

  into her mouth and tied there. As she moved it seemed her hands must be bound

  behind her back. Her slippers were off, near her feet. Her robes had been thrust

  up about her waist. She looked wildly at me, the cloth stuffed in her mouth,

  tied there. She had probably been surprised in her sleep, and rendered helpless.

  When he finished with her he would probably carry her from the floor, either to

  his wagon and, if interested in her, leave with her, or leave her tied below

  somewhere, perhaps to the railing at (pg.89) the stairs, or perhaps in the

  stable, where she would attract little attention until morning, after his

  presumed departure.

  I thought that perhaps the inn should provide separate spaces for women, not

  just separate marked-out spaces, but say, a separate room, or area. She half

  reared up, making tiny noises. He had gagged her well. Then he pressed her back

  to the boards. I blamed the keeper as much as anything, three copper tarsks for

  a girl, for a quarter of an Ahn, was outrageous. It was no wonder that some

  fellow, under the circumstances, might be forced to make do as he could, even

  having recourse eventually, if he was desperate enough, to a free woman. I trod

  a bit further ahead. It was less dangerous now, as I could see better. Too, the

  tiny tharlarion-oil lamps, here and there, at the walls, were helpful.

  “Do not approach me, sleen!” hissed a woman. Her arm was back. She crouched in

  the center of one of the spaces. Her hand, held back, held a small dagger, of

  the sort which some women think affords them protection.

  “Forgive me, Lady,” I whispered, “I am trying to reach my space.”

  She brandished the weapon.

  “I mean you no harm,” I said. I do not think it is a good idea for women to

  carry such weapons, incidentally. Their pretentiousness annoys some men. indeed,

  some men will kill a woman with such a weapon rather than take the moment or so

  necessary to disarm her and make her helpless.

  “Do not approach me!” she hissed. “Oh!” she said. “Stop! You’re hurting me!”

  The dagger fell to the floor. My hand was still on her wrist.

  “I shall scream,” she whispered, tensely. “oh!”

  “It will be difficult to scream, held as you are,” I said. My left hand was

  behind the back of her neck, pressed tightly against it, and my right hand,

  moved from her wrist, now covered her veiled mouth, tightly, pressing back.

  She looked at me, angrily, over the veil. She squirmed. She made tiny noises.

  Her small hands were futile, trying to pull my hand from her mouth.

  “I mean you no harm,” I said. “I am only trying to get to my place.”

  She nodded, a tiny, difficult movement.

  (pg.90) “Will you scream, if I release you?” I asked.

  She looked at me, and then shook her head, as she could, quickly, earnestly,

  negatively. She was lying, of course. But this would give me the opportunity to

  get her veil into her mouth.

  I released her mouth and she pulled back and opened her mouth widely, to scream.

  I bunched and thrust veil into her mouth. She looked at me, wildly, half

  gagging, my fingers and cloth in her mouth. Little by little, then, with my

  fingers, patiently, my thumb holding my present accomplishments in place, and

  pushing them further back, to make room for more folds, I worked more of the

  veil into her mouth. Finally I pulled out the pins at the side, and completed

  the work. Some veils are held not with pins but with hooks and cords, passing

  about the back of the head. Others are a part of the hood itself. With the hood

  cords, which can fasten the hood more or less closely about the neck, like a

  cloak. I fastened the veil in place. She then looked at me, well silenced.

  No longer had she the dignity of the veil.

  She did not try to dislodge the silencing device I had placed in her mouth but

  she lifted her hands, shamed, before her face, to conceal her countenance from

  me.

  I noted how her hands were held before her face.

  I pulled her hands down, away from her face. I held them, she helpless to

  resist, and then, for a time, not hurrying, considered her lips and mouth. They

  were indeed excellent. She turned her head to the side.

  I turned her about and put her on her stomach. I then removed her stockings. Her

  slippers, removed for the night, were to one side. With one stocking I bound her

  hands together, behind her back, leaving two ends loose. I then crossed and

  bound her ankles with the other stocking, and, as she winced, pulled her legs up

  behind her. I looped one of the two loose ends from the stocking securing her

  wrists twice about her ankle tie and then tied it to the other loose end. This

  fastened her in a slave bow. I pulled her hood down about her face. In this way

  her facial modesty was protected. Her lips and mouth, then, were not exposed to

  the gaze of men, as though they might be those of a slave. I then found he

  dagger and, carefully, with regard to her modesty, cut and divided her garments,

  removing fastening and hooks (pg.91) from them. This left her fully and modestly

  concealed, albeit with only strips and piec
es of clothing, the devices for

  arranging and closing which had been removed. I did not think she would find

  that her dignity would be compromised unless, of course, foolishly, she chose to

  move. I then picked up her small dagger, and my pack, and the blankets, and

  again made my way toward my space. When I reached it, I put down the pack and

  blankets. I also put the small dagger under my foot, and pulling up on the

  handle, broke the blade away. The two parts I cast away, back by the wall. No

  longer would it endanger her life.

  I looked about. There were some empty spaces on the floor, for example, space

  98, to my left, as I would face the front of the room, but, on the whole, the

  level was very crowded. I would have liked the comparative privacy of space 99,

  in the corner, but it was occupied. I suspected that the empty spaces, or most

  of them, had been vacated by fellows who had left early. Some folks leave almost

  in the middle of the night, and then stop at another inn, in the early

  afternoon. That way they can usually count on obtaining excellent

  accommodations. Most inns want you out by noon, the tenth Ahn.

  I glanced back to the space occupied by the free woman whom I had not found

  pleasing, she on whose mouth I had seen fit to impose closure, she whom I had

  left in precarious concealments and slave trussing. She was motionless. I

  doubted, however, that she was asleep. She would not wish to attract attention

  to her present straits. In the morning, with folks bustling about, she would

  probably be all right. Now, however, she might be plucked as easily as a larma,

  one overhanging a public path. I had scarcely arranged my blankets and put the

  pack down for a pillow when I saw an attendant enter the room, carrying a

  stripped female, her hands tied behind her, over his shoulder, her head to the

  rear, in slave position. I gestured to him, and, exciting my envy somewhat, he

  picked his way expertly among the sprawled, slumbering bodies to my space. “I

  shall return in an Ahn,” he said. He then sat his burden beside me.

  “You!” said the Lady Temione.

  “Shhh,” I cautioned her. “People are trying to sleep.”

  (pg. 92) She tried to struggle to her feet, but I gently placed her on the

  blanket beside me, on her side.

  “This a terrible mistake,” she whispered. “You know I am a free woman.”