Mariners of Gor

by Norman, John;

“Please,” she said.

  “Better,” I said. “But you are standing as a free woman. Straighten your body, lift your head, turn your hip.”

  “Please, no!” she said.

  “You stood as what you were before,” I said. “Do so now, again.”

  “But I am now naked,” she wept.

  “Who would buy you as you are?” I asked. “You are before a man, slut.”

  “Mercy!” she wept.

  “Does the Lady Flavia refuse to obey?” I asked. “Good,” I said. “That is not bad, Alcinoë, at least for a girl new to the collar.”

  She wept, but stood well.

  “Now turn about,” I said, “slowly, and then, again, face me.”

  “Good,” I said.

  “Now, clasp your hands behind the back of your neck, put your head back, and turn about, again, again slowly, and then, again, face me. Good. Now you may lower your arms, and regard me, standing well.”

  She was lovely, in the dim light, standing in the straw, within the cell, the gate open behind her.

  “Brush your hair back, with both hands,” I said.

  Yes, I thought, certainly well worth forty copper tarsks.

  “Do you not know how to make a man want you?” I asked.

  “No!” she said.

  “I am considering putting you through slave paces,” I said.

  “I do not know such things,” she said. “I have not been trained!”

  “But you are a slave,” I said.

  “Yes, yes,” she said, “I am a slave!”

  I suspected she would respond well, and more quickly than most, to male dominance. Once the collar is on them, it seldom takes much time, some more, some less.

  “Often, in Ar,” I said, “your veil was loose, disarranged, as though carelessly, before guards and other males.”

  “You were not to look,” she said. “Did I not chide you for your boldness?”

  “Poor males,” I said, “to be so tormented.”

  “And surely,” she said, “once aware, I hastily restored the propriety of my habiliments.”

  “You must have been aware,” I said, “that men, so provoked, would conjecture your lineaments, beneath those layered, brightly colored robes.”

  “No!” she said.

  “Truly?” I said.

  “You had your slaves,” she said, angrily, “collared, face-stripped, with ill-concealed limbs. Should that be all you knew? Why should you not have been given a hint, at least, of true beauty, the incomparably superior beauty of a free woman?”

  I laughed.

  She turned her head away, angrily.

  “Forty copper tarsks,” I said.

  “Beast,” she said.

  “Now it is you who are in the collar,” I said. “Do you truly think you are less beautiful now than then? Indeed, the collar much enhances a woman’s beauty.”

  “May I withdraw?” she asked.

  “You were a haughty she-sleen,” I said, “a hypocrite, a false friend, greedy, insolent, self-seeking, cowardly, dishonest, cruel, and power hungry.”

  “May I withdraw?” she said.

  “But you did, upon occasion, disarrange your veils,” I said.

  “To taunt men,” she snapped, “to make them miserable, to let them see what they could not have!”

  “Most,” I said, “might have afforded forty copper tarsks.”

  “I must return,” she said.

  “To your kennel?” I inquired.

  “To my mat,” she said, “to be chained there! Does that please you?”

  “It is my impression,” I said, “that free women not only despise slaves, but, being women, often envy them. What woman would not wish to be excitingly garbed, to be not only permitted, but to have no choice but to publicly exhibit her beauty? What woman would not wish to escape the inhibitions, the social demands, the conventions and pressures, the robes, veils, and proprieties which so control and confine them? What woman would not wish to realize that she is stunningly attractive to men, that she is the object of mighty male desire? What woman truly believes that she is the same as a man? What woman does not wish to kneel naked, collared, before her master, the joyful, waiting, hopeful instrument and vessel of his pleasure? Surely you have wondered, if only in rage, at the radiance, the joy, the fulfillment, the freedom, the paradoxical happiness, of the female slave.”

  “Let me go!” she begged.

  “So in your supposed carelessness, that having to do with your veiling,” I said, “I see more than the cruel delight of an ignoble and petty woman, little more than a she-sleen, protected by the transitory artificiality of station, to torment men. I see, rather, a woman who is displaying herself, as a woman, before men. In your dreams did you not occasionally find yourself back-braceleted and naked in the arms of a master, knowing that he might, if it pleased him, and whether you wished it or not, force upon you uncompromisingly rapturous ecstasies, ecstasies in the throes of which you, at last, will beg to utter the surrender cries of the yielded slave?”

  “Please, I beg you,” she said, “let me go—Master!”

  “‘Master’?” I said.

  “Yes,” she said, “Master, Master!”

  “Have the slave fires been lit in your belly?” I asked.

  “No!” she said.

  “But you have begun to sense what it might be to feel them?” I asked.

  “No, no,” she said. “No! No!” She put her head in her hands, sobbing, and bent over at the waist. “What do you want of me?” she sobbed.

  “What do you think a man might want of you?” I asked.

  “That?” she said.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “I was a free woman!” she said.

  “You are no longer a free woman,” I said.

  “Be merciful,” she said. “Dismiss me!”

  “Approach, girl,” I said.

  “‘Girl’?” she said.

  “Yes, ‘Girl’,” I said. “Lie here, beside me, girl.”

  “Never!” she said.

  “In disarranging your veils in Ar,” I said, “in your time of power, your features, as doubtless you intended, were well bared, though, could you have seen the future, you might have been more careful, more decorous. You are the former Lady Flavia of Ar, and that name, as I understand it, remains high on the proscription lists, perhaps just beneath those of Talena herself, and Seremides.”

  “Do not betray me!” she pleaded.

  “Death by impalement,” I said, “is doubtless a most miserable death, and not the swiftest. Indeed, it can take more than an Ahn to descend the spear. And sometimes, suitably braced, increment by transitory increment, the victim given food and water, the execution can take several days, during which time the victim is exposed to the jeers and abuse of the public.”

  She came and lay down beside me.

  “On your back,” I said, “and throw your legs apart.”

  “Excellent,” I said.

  She stared at the ceiling of the cell.

  “You may now beg use,” I said.

  “I beg use,” she whispered.

  “Who?” I asked. “The former Lady Flavia of Ar, Alcinoë, some slave?”

  “I, the former Lady Flavia of Ar, now Alcinoë, slave, beg use,” she said.

  “Again, more properly,” I said.

  “I, the former Lady Flavia of Ar, now Alcinoë, slave, beg use, Master,” she said.

  “Are you ready?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “‘Yes’?” I said.

  “Yes, Master,” she said.

  “Beg to be taught your collar,” I said.

  “I beg to be taught my collar, Master,” she whispered.

  A woman is never the same, after having uttered such words.

  I noted her body carefully, its tonicity, its readiness. I assessed her breathing, I turned her head to mine, and looked into her eyes. I was pleased. This was clearly a slave ready for use.

  I released her head, an
d lay back in the straw.

  Some Ehn passed.

  “Master?” she said.

  “Yes?” I said.

  “I beg,” she whispered in the half darkness. “I beg use, Master.”

  “No,” I said.

  “What?” she said, turning to me.

  “You are dismissed,” I told her.

  She sprang up in tears and, seizing up her tunic, fled toward the gate.

  “Wait!” I said.

  She turned, at the gate. “Do not forget this,” I said, throwing the metal bowl which had held the broth, ringing, to her feet. She snatched it up, and, tunic clutched in one hand, rushed outside and flung shut the gate of the cell, which action closed and locked the gate. “They are going to kill you!” she cried, from outside, through the bars. “They are going to kill you!” And then she fled up the stairs to a higher deck. I lay down in the straw and was soon asleep.

  Chapter Four

  I am Interviewed;

  My Fate is to be Soon Decided

  “Keep your head down,” said the voice.

  I stared at the flooring.

  This was now my fourth day on the great ship. I knew, as yet, little about the ship. I did not know her course. I had not been on the main deck.

  If they intended to kill me, I did not understand the delay.

  I knelt, head down, naked, bound hand and foot.

  “Do you understand my Gorean?” asked one of the men. I had glimpsed them when I was brought before them, my hands bound behind my back, before I was put to my knees, and my ankles lashed together.

  “Yes,” I said, head down.

  There were five men, three were of the sort to which the slave, Alcinoë, had alluded, those whom she had thought had “strange eyes.” I had seen such eyes before, sometimes on free men, sometimes on lovely slaves, but rarely. Such eyes are sometimes referred to as Tuchuk eyes. The coloring of the skin was unusual, at least to me. It was darker than that with which I was commonly familiar, but not as dark as the brown of Bazi, nor the deeper, richer browns, even blacks, of Schendi, the Ua Basin, and such. They were, I took it, Pani. Two I took to be chief men, each with a guard or colleague. I would learn that the fellow who had spoken, one of the Pani, lithe, pantherlike, was Lord Nishida. With him was a swordsman, though the sword was of a type with which I was unfamiliar. He was also of the Pani, and his name was Tajima. The other chief man, as I took him to be, was also of the Pani, who, I gathered, were important in this enterprise, whatever might be its purpose. He was heavy, even ponderous, and seemed almost asleep, his eyes half closed, but I sensed in him much danger. He reminded me of a seemingly somnolent larl, pretending to be asleep, lying in the grasses, near a watering hole. Woe to the tabuk which might ignore such a form. The larl does not always move whilst hunting. I knew the man at his side, doubtless a guard. He was Seremides of Ar, who had been the master of the Taurentians, the palace guard, during the brief reign of Talena, false Ubara. I wondered if he knew the former Lady Flavia was on this ship, and I wondered if she knew that Seremides, now calling himself Rutilius of Ar, co-conspirator and traitor, he who had abandoned her on the roof of the Central Cylinder, was also aboard. Each, of course, could identify the other. She would know him by sight, and he, too, I had no doubt, would know her. She, so bold in the presence of common soldiers, would surely, in her vanity, have assured herself that one so important as the master of the Taurentians would be well apprised of her beauty. Might that not be to her advantage? Yet, in his haste to make a swift, unencumbered escape, she had been abandoned, left on the roof of the Central Cylinder. I myself, from what I had seen in the cell, would not have minded owning the former Lady Flavia of Ar, and promptly switch-training her to my tastes, but I suspected that Seremides would dispose of her. Too, of course, I could identify him. He had been the finest sword in the Taurentians, the palace guard, and doubtless one of the finest in Ar. I would learn that he had slain six men to earn his place on this ship. Bladewise I could not hope to stand against him. The larger one of the Pani, the heavier, seemingly somnolent one, was Lord Okimoto. Seremides was his personal guard. The fifth man was not of the Pani. He wore the leather jacket of a tarnsman. He was a large, broad-shouldered, sinewy man, with a wind-burned complexion. His hair was red, of an unusual hue. It suggested Torvaldsland. He was called Tarl Cabot.

  “You may lift your head,” said my interrogator, he whom I would learn was Lord Nishida.

  “Let us cut his throat,” said Seremides. “He should never have been brought on board.”

  That Seremides had spoken seemed to surprise Lord Nishida, who glanced to Lord Okimoto, but Lord Okimoto remained passive, his countenance unreadable. Here, I gathered, Seremides was subordinate to others. It was then unusual, I supposed, that he would have spoken without being recognized, so to speak. I had little doubt he could kill me, and, given his true identity, would wish to do so. This must have prompted his boldness.

  “What is your name?” asked Lord Nishida.

  “Callias,” I said.

  “Your hands suggest you are an oarsman,” said Lord Nishida.

  “I drew oar,” I said. “But in better times I was first spear, in a squad of nine.”

  “In better times?” asked Lord Nishida.

  “When Cos, Tyros, and allies ruled in Ar,” I said.

  “We gather,” said Lord Nishida, “that is no longer the case.”

  I had no idea how much they knew. I had gathered from the former Lady Flavia of Ar that men such as Lord Nishida had purchased slaves in Brundisium, and I supposed they had recruited men and hired ships there, as well, which had then coasted north, to the high forests. Beyond that I knew little. I would learn later that they had found, or built, a ship in the north, a great ship, that on which I now found myself, and had debouched into Thassa from the Alexandra. As it seemed they waited for me to speak, I told them, briefly, of the events in Ar, the return of Marlenus, the fighting, the withdrawal of troops, the proscription lists, the flight of fugitives, and such. I also mentioned the unusual account of the disappearance of the Ubara, which I had had from the former Lady Flavia of Ar, now Alcinoë. It seemed, however, that they were familiar with this. In the end, I suspected I told them little that they did not know. If it were new or important information which they wanted of me I fear they were sorely disappointed. And that, I thought, along with the presence of Seremides, did not augur well for my future.

  “Do you have a Home Stone?” asked Lord Nishida.

  “Yes,” I said. “That of Jad, on Cos.”

  “I thought he was Cosian,” snarled Seremides. “Cosians cannot be trusted. They are treacherous, and deceitful. Let us kill him.”

  “Several from Cos are numbered amongst our mercenaries,” said Lord Nishida.

  Certainly I had heard accents of Cos on the galley which had picked me up.

  “What was your ship, and its purpose?” asked Lord Nishida.

  “The Metioche,” I said. “Long ship, light galley, out of Telnus, ten oars, single-masted, guard ship, patrol ship. You destroyed her.”

  “She pursued us, she crossed our path,” said Lord Nishida.

  “Too,” said Seremides, “we were attacked, flaming javelins launched against us.”

  Fire at sea, as noted, is a great danger.

  “Even an ost,” I said, “trodden upon, will strike.”

  “You pursued us,” said Lord Nishida.

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  “An ost,” said Lord Nishida, “is not well advised to pursue the great hith, against which its poison is useless.”

  This is not as surprising as it might seem, as the poison of the ost, as that of many poisonous snakes, is prey-selective, deadly against warm-blooded animals, such as tiny urts, its customary prey, or even larger animals, such as verr and tabuk, but harmless to other snakes, to certain forms of tharlarion, and such.

  “It is true,” I said.

  “He is an enemy,” said Seremides, “self-confessed, who pursued and atta
cked us, a scion of vengeful, hostile Cos. He is dangerous. He may incite mutiny. Kill him, and be done with him.”

  “Shall we kill you?” asked Lord Nishida.

  “That decision is yours,” I said.

  Lord Okimoto nodded his head. Seremides clenched his fists.

  “Why was I picked up?” I asked.

  “Is it not obvious?” asked Lord Nishida.

  “The fellowship of the sea?” I said.

  “If you had been rescued by another,” said Lord Nishida, “say, a galley of Tyros, it is our speculation that a dozen ships, within days, in the vicinity of the farther islands, would have sought us, to our inconvenience and distraction.”

  “Were others of the Metioche brought aboard?” I asked.

  “No,” said Lord Nishida.

  “I was the only survivor?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Lord Nishida.

  I found this hard to believe. I would learn later, however, that there was a simple explanation for this seeming anomaly.

  “You are hence to the farther islands?” I asked.

  “Beyond them,” said Lord Nishida.

  “There is nothing beyond them,” I said, “only the end of the world.”

  “If the world had an edge,” said Lord Nishida, “would not Thassa have drained away, falling into the void?”

  “Perhaps there is a wall,” I said.

  “Perhaps,” he smiled.

  “None return from beyond the farther islands,” I said.

  “You are familiar with the slave, Alcinoë?” asked Lord Nishida.

  “Yes,” I said. To be sure, I had seen her but once, when she had brought me broth. My food and drink, thereafter, had been attended to by guards.

  “She claimed you raped her,” said Lord Nishida.

  “Was her body examined?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said Lord Nishida. “Have no fear. She was well lashed.”

  “Excellent,” I said.

  “She hates you,” said Lord Nishida.

  “Excellent,” I said. “It is then all the more pleasant to have them crawling to you, the whip borne in their teeth.”

  “She has been given lower duties,” said Lord Nishida. “The scrubbing of decks, naked, and in chains, such things.”

  “Excellent,” I said.