by John Norman
There is perhaps little to be said for the Gorean world, but in it men and women are alive.
It is a world which I would not willingly surrender.
It is a very different world from mine; in its way, I suppose it is worse; in its way, I know it is better.
It is its own place, not another's. It is honest and real. In it there is good air.
"Who is your master, little vulo?" asked Tup Ladletender of me.
"My master is Thurnus," I said, "caste leader in Tabuk's Ford, of the caste of peasants, one who makes fields fruitful and is, too, a trainer of sleen." I was proud of Thurnus, who owned me. A peasant who is actively engaged in agricultural pursuits is spoken of as one who makes fields fruitful. Sometimes this expression is applied, too, to peasants who are not actively engaged in such pursuits, as an honorific appellation. Whereas caste membership is commonly connected with the practice of an occupation, such as agriculture, or commerce, or war, there can be, of course, caste members who are not engaged in caste work and individuals who do certain forms of work who are not members of that caste commonly associated with such work. Caste, commonly, though not invariably, is a matter of birth. One may, too, be received into a caste by investment. Normally mating takes place among caste members, but if the mating is of mixed caste, the woman may elect to retain caste, which is commonly done, or be received into the caste of the male companion. Caste membership of the children born of such a union is a function of the caste of the father. Similar considerations, in certain cities, hold of citizenship. Caste is important to Goreans in a way that is difficult for members of a non-caste society to understand. Though there are doubtless difficulties involved with caste structure the caste situation lends an individual identity and pride, allies him with thousands of caste brothers, and provides him with various opportunities and services. Recreation on Gor is often associated with caste, and tournaments and entertainments. Similarly, most public charity on Gor is administered through caste structures. The caste system is not inflexible and there are opportunities for altering caste, but men seldom avail themselves of them; they take great pride in their castes, often comparing others' castes unfavorably to their own; a Gorean's caste, by the time he reaches adulthood, seems to have become a part of his very blood and being; the average Gorean would no more think of altering caste than the average man of Earth would of altering his citizenship, from, say, American to Russian, or French to Chinese. The caste structure, in spite of its many defects, doubtless contributes to the stability of Gorean society, a society in which the individual has a place, in which his work is respected, and in which he can plan intelligently with respect to the future. The clan structures are kinship groups. They function, on the whole, given mating practices, within the caste structure, but they are not identical to it. For example, in a given clan there may be, though often there are not, individuals of different castes. Many Goreans think of the clan as a kinship group within a caste. For most practical purposes they are correct. At least it seldom does much harm to regard the matter in this way. Clans, because of practical limitations on mobility, are usually associated, substantially, with a given city; the caste, on the other hand, is transmunicipal or intermunicipal. These remarks would not be complete without mentioning Home Stones. Perhaps the most significant difference between the man of Earth and the Gorean is that the Gorean has a Home Stone, and the man of Earth does not. It is difficult to make clear to a non-Gorean the significance of the Home Stone, for the non-Gorean has never had a Home Stone, and thus cannot understand its meaning, its reality. I think that I shall not try to make clear what is the significance to a Gorean of the Home Stone. It would be difficult to put into words; indeed, it is perhaps impossible to put into words; I shall not try. I think this is one of the saddest things about the men of Earth, that they have no Home Stone.
"What is your name, little vulo?" asked Tup Ladletender of me.
"My master has been pleased to call me 'Dina,'" I said.
"If your master has been pleased to call you 'Dina,'" said Ladletender, "then you are Dina."
"Oh, yes, Master!" I said, quickly. I had not meant to imply that my name might not be 'Dina.' Melina was glaring at me. "I am Dina," I said swiftly, "only Dina, the girl of my master." Those four letters, in Gorean, as in English, were my complete and only designation. Such matters lie entirely within the determination of the Master.
"Pretty Dina," said Ladletender.
"Thank you, Master," I said.
"Do you want her?" asked Melina.
"She has rough hands," said Ladletender. He pulled my small hands, bound, out from the post, and rubbed his thumbs into my palms. I shuddered. "You have rough hands, Dina," he said.
"I am a peasant's girl, Master," I said. My hands were rough from digging, and washing, and holding tools.
I felt his thumbs rotating slowly in my palms. They pressed in. I thrust myself against the post, eyes closed.
"With lotions," said he, "they may be softened, so that they would be fit to caress men."
"Yes, Master," I said. I shuddered to think what his thumbs might have felt like in my palms, had my palms been slave-girl soft.
"Make an offer for the little she-sleen," said Melina.
Ladletender touched my neck, and put his finger inside the rope collar, and pulled it out a bit from my neck. "You wear a rope collar," he said. "It must be rough and unpleasant."
"What pleases my Master," I said, "pleases me."
"Do you lie to a free man?" he asked.
"Oh, no, Master!" I cried. To be sure, the rope collar was unpleasant, and for that reason I did not like it, but, on the other hand, I, a slave, was naturally desperately eager to please Thurnus, who was my master. It was his will to which mine must conform. It was he whom I must please, fully. There was thus a sense in which what pleased Thurnus pleased me. I was pleased to please him. Did I not please him I might be summarily slain. I was pleased to please him. To please the master is what most pleases the girl.
"She is trying to be pleasing," said Melina. "Would you not like her naked in your furs? She can be purchased cheaply."
"How cheaply?" he asked.
"Cheaply," she said.
"Does Thurnus know you are selling her off?" he asked.
"It does not matter what Thurnus knows," said Melina. "I am free and companion to Thurnus. I may do what I wish."
"Would you like, pretty Dina," said Ladletender, fingering my neck, "to have a pretty steel collar, perhaps enameled?"
"I have never owned a collar," I said.
"Nor would you then," pointed out Ladletender.
"Yes, Master," I said, humbled.
It was not I who would own a collar, but I, collared, who would be owned. The collar, like myself, would belong to the master. It would be his collar. I would not own it. I would only wear it.
"This rope is rough and coarse," said Ladletender, fingering the rope collar. "Would you not like a smooth steel collar, one slender and gleaming, or perhaps ornamented and cunningly wrought, or enameled, perhaps to match your eyes and hair, one designed in color and workmanship to enhance your style of beauty, one perhaps measured or custom-fitted to the beauty of your own slave throat?"
"Whatever pleases the master," I said. I knew that a steel collar did immeasurably enhance the beauty of a girl. I had much envied Eta her collar, though it had been plain. I had seen few collars on Gor, but I had learned from Eta that there was great variety among them. They ranged from simple bands of iron, hammered about a girl's throat, her head held down on an anvil, to bejeweled, wondrously wrought, close-locking circlets befitting the preferred slave of a Ubar; such collars, whether worn by a kitchen slave or the prize beauty of a Ubar, had two things in common; they cannot be removed by the girl and they mark her as slave. In the matter of collars, as in all things, Goreans commonly exhibit good taste and aesthetic sense. Indeed, good taste and aesthetic sense, abundantly and amply displayed, harmoniously manifested, in such areas as language, arch
itecture, dress, culture and customs, seem innately Gorean. It is a civilization informed by beauty, from the tanning and cut of a workman's sandal to the glazings intermixed and fused, sensitive to light and shadow, and the time of day, which characterize the lofty towers of her beautiful cities. The same attention, of course, which the Gorean bestows upon his own life and world, is naturally bestowed upon his slave girls. They, too, must be perfect. Just as, in our world, it is not uncommon to seek the advice of an interior decorator in obtaining and organizing the appointments of one's own dwelling, so, too, in the Gorean world, it is not uncommon to call in a trainer and beautician to appraise and improve a girl. He considers such matters as her hair, its cut, cosmetics appropriate to her, the proper type of earrings, a variety of collars and slave silks, how she walks, and speaks, and kneels, and so on, and makes his recommendations. Commonly he finds an apparently plain slave, discovers her latencies, and leaves a beauty. An apparently plain girl is a challenge to such a man. They are said to be able to work wonders. They are often employed in slave pens. A common challenge to them is to take an apparently plain free woman, recently enslaved, and transform her into a ravishing, embonded beauty. Half the work, however, some say, is done by the collar. Some say the collar releases the beauty in a woman. Perhaps it is true. I had worn only a rope collar, but yet it seemed to me that it, even in its coarseness, made me more beautiful, more exciting. When Thurnus had tied it on my throat he had shown it to me in one of Melina's mirrors. I had almost fainted at the sight of it, so exciting it had made me appear, so sexually charged it had made me. Seeing my state, he had used me immediately, and I had, my whole body, helplessly, to my amazement, responded instantly to him. He had collared me. I dared not dream what my responsiveness would have been had the collar been not of rope, which I might cut or untie, but of true steel, in which I would be helplessly locked. In a sense I both desired and feared a true collar. Collared, how could I resist any man?
"Make an offer for her," said Melina.
Tup Ladletender rose to his feet and reached into his pouch. "Here, little vulo," he said. He took something from his pouch and thrust it in my mouth, pressing it between my teeth with his thumb, depositing it in the side of my mouth. I was startled, kneeling in the dirt at the post, my hands bound about it. "Thank you, Master," I said. It was a small, hard candy. It was sweet. I closed my eyes. It was the first sweet I had had since I had been brought to Gor. In the plain diet of a slave girl, such things are very precious. Girls would fight and tear at one another for a chocolate. Confections are commonly used by masters as rewards in the training and conditioning of their girls. Beyond this they may continue to function as control devices and incitements. Even a slave girl of many years never loses her taste for a bit of candy, for which she may have to work for hours. It is common to give the girl the candy while she is in a kneeling position, putting it in her mouth for her. On the other hand, in training, candies are commonly thrown to the girls. Sometimes, too, for the amusement of the master, candies will be thrown to the floor among several girls, to observe their struggle to obtain these prizes.
"Make an offer for her," said Melina.
"Why do you want to sell her off?" asked Ladletender.
"Make an offer," said Melina.
"Perhaps," he said, looking at me.
"Is she not pretty?" demanded Melina.
"Yes, she is pretty," he said.
"Imagine her, collared, naked in your furs," said Melina, "rubbing against you, desperate to please you."
"I am a merchant," said Ladletender. "If I buy her, I buy her to sell her for a profit."
"But surely you could richly use her before you sell her," suggested Melina.
Ladletender grinned. "Two copper tarsks," he said.
A strange sensation came over me. I realized a price had been offered for me. It is a very strange feeling. The price, of course, even for an Earth girl such as myself, was not realistic. It was intended only to begin the bargaining. Surely I would be worth at least four or five copper tarsks in any market.
"I will sell her to you for less," said Melina.
Ladletender seemed startled.
I opened my eyes, startled, too.
"I need something from your wagon," she said. She looked at me, narrowly. "Come away from the post," she said to Ladletender. They left me tied at the post. She and Ladletender, who seemed puzzled, went to his wagon, with the two long handles. They conversed there. I could not hear their conversation. I sucked at the candy. It was delicious. I wanted it to last as long as possible. I did move a bit about the post where I might look, as though inadvertently, at the pair of free persons at the wagon. I was curious. I was puzzled. From one of the many drawers in the wagon, Tup Ladletender gave into the keeping of Melina, companion of Thurnus, a tiny packet, such as might contain a medicine or powder. I then turned about at the post, so that they would not know I had observed them, and continued to relish the candy. In a short time Melina returned and untied me from the post, and, to my surprise, removed the long rope, though not the rope collar, from my neck. I had expected to be bound, wrists behind my back, and tethered by the neck of the rear of Ladletender's wagon, to follow him, his slave girl, naked and barefoot from the village.
"Put on your tunic," said Melina to me. "Get a hoe. Go to the sul fields. Hoe suls. Bran Loort will fetch you and bring you back when it is time. Speak to no one."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Hurry," said Melina, looking about.
I donned the brief, woolen slave tunic, slipping it swiftly over my head.
Melina seemed agitated.
"May a slave speak, Mistress?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Have I not been sold, Mistress?" I asked.
"Perhaps, pretty Dina," said Melina, companion to Thurnus. "We shall see."
"Yes, Mistress," I said, puzzled.
"Tomorrow, my pretty little she-sleen," she said, "you will belong either to Tup Ladletender or Bran Loort."
I looked at her, puzzled. "Go," she said. "Hurry! Speak to no one!"
I turned about and, hurrying, went to fetch a tool. The last of the candy dissolved in my mouth. There was no one to speak to.
* * * *
I chopped at the dry earth about the sul plant.
It had not rained in fifteen days, and it had been dry, too, before that time. The land was in drought.
Tup Ladletender's cart had now disappeared down the road leading from Tabuk's Ford, he between its handles, bent over, drawing it. Left behind now was not even a bit of dust.
It was late afternoon.
I was totally alone in the fields, unprotected.
I did not understand much of what had happened to me. I did not know why I had been brought to Gor. I had awakened naked and chained by the neck. Men had demanded slave beads of me. I had not understood them. They had prepared to kill me. I had been rescued by Clitus Vitellius, who had branded me and made me a slave. He had toyed with me, making me love him helplessly, and had then, for his amusement, given me away! How I hated him! How I loved him! Always I would remember his hands upon me! Always in my heart I would be his slave girl. I wondered if he ever called to mind the girl he had so casually, contemptuously, discarded. Of course not! She was only a slave. And he had his pick of women, even free women, who would wear a collar for his touch. He would not remember me, a slave he once briefly owned and sported with. But I would remember him, always. I loved him. I hated him! Always in my heart I would think of him as my master. I so loved him, and hated him! If only I could have vengeance upon him! How sweet it would be to subject him to the revenge of a scorned slave girl! But what chance had a slave girl for revenge? She was only slave. I cut down at the suls, viciously. I thought of the strange dream I had had, in which I, naked and collared, kneeling on tiles in a beautiful room, as though in a palace, had been strangely commanded to bead a necklace. "Who commands me?" I had asked. "You are commanded by Belisarius, Slave Girl," was the response. T
he response, somehow, had seemed oddly fitting, expected, though I had known no Belisarius. "What is the command of Belisarius, the slave girl's master?" I had asked. "It is simple," had said the voice. "Yes, Master," I had said. "Bead a necklace, Slave Girl," had said the voice. "Yes, Master," I had said. Then my hands had reached toward the strands of thread on the table, and toward the cups of tiny beads. Then I had awakened. I had not understood the dream. Bran Loort had been near the bars of the cage. He had startled me. "I am going to be first in Tabuk's Ford," whispered Bran Loort. "When I am first," he said, "Melina will give you to me." He had then slipped away from the bars. I had huddled in the straw, trembling. Today, I had thought that I was sold, and perhaps had been, but I did not know. Tup Ladletender, I knew, had left the village without me. I had been sent to the fields. Melina had purchased something from Ladletender, a packet, containing a powder or medicine. I was to say nothing. Bran Loort would fetch me, I had been told. I was to remain in the fields until then. I understood little of this.
I cut down at the suls. I was to say nothing.
