"I was thinking, rather," I said, "of various other wars, or conflicts, such as the second war between Harfax and Besnit, and the war, some years ago, between Port Olni and Ti, before the Salerian Confederation."
"Yes!" she said.
"There," I said, "I think the motivations were solely, or almost solely, the acquisition of slaves."
"Yes!" she said.
The war between Port Olni and Ti had ended in a truce. That between Harfax and Besnit had concluded, however, with a practical victory for Harfax. Besnit, her walls breached, had been forced to surrender her slaves, and a selection of her high-caste daughters, to be made slaves, and trained under the women who had formerly been slaves in their own houses. Besnit and Harfax, now, interestingly enough, years later, were allies. Harfax had desperately needed the assistance of such an ally, but Besnit, understandably, despite the advantages which she stood to reap from such a relationship, given the past, was reluctant to form an alliance. At this point the young high-caste women of Harfax had approached the high council of the city with a bold plan. It had been to permit the men of Besnit to make a selection from among them, in the number of a hundred, the same number which had been that of the high-caste daughters earlier taken by the men of Harfax, this hundred then to be impressed into slavery, trained by slaves in the houses of Besnit, and then to be kept, or sold, or distributed, as their masters chose. Although opposition to this plan was at first fierce the high council agreed at last. Accordingly, and within a month, the high-caste young women of Harfax were privately stripped and examined by the members of a delegation from Besnit, including physicians and professional slavers. The hundred deemed the most beautiful were then entered on records and given a locked bracelet to wear. A month later they were taken to Besnit and reduced to bondage. After this they were trained in Besnit by the slaves of men of Besnit. After their training they were sold, some from the city, some within it, these decisions made by lottery. Besnit and Harfax, since that time, have been staunch allies. The proceeds from the first sales of the girls, when they were first put up for auction, whether out of the city or within it, went to the public treasury of Besnit.
She trembled with pleasure.
"We should camp soon," I said.
I saw the fin of a shark several feet to the left, gliding through a stand of rence.
"Look to the left," I said.
"Yes," she said.
"Keep on the raft," I said.
"Yes, my captor," she said. She coiled the strap running to her collar once or twice, shortening her own tether. Then she knelt and came forward a little, near me.
I looked down at her, and she looked up at me, happily.
"Am I pretty on my knees?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked.
"You are still interested in that?" I asked.
"Of course," she said.
"We shall see," I said.
"I am totally at your mercy, you know," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"And you will do with me what you please, will you not?" she asked.
"Of course," I said.
"Good," she said.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," she said.
I poled the raft to the right. There was, to the right, about a hundred yards away, a likely looking island on which to make a camp.
"You could even sell me, could you not?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
"Is that your intention," she asked, "to sell me?"
"Perhaps," I said.
She looked up at me.
"The thought interests you, does it not?" I asked.
"Yes," she whispered.
"And you are curious, are you not," I asked, "as to what it would be to be the most sexual, exciting and desirable of all women, the female slave?"
"A free woman dare not even think of such things," she said.
"Think of them," I said.
"Yes, my captor," she said, frightened.
"And you may think of them," I said, "whenever and however, and as frequently and for as long, as you wish."
"Yes, my captor," she whispered.
She then kissed me, and, putting forth her small, pink tongue, licked me, delicately, softly, on the leg.
"And if I sell you?" I asked.
"I would endeavor to be worthy of my price," she said.
"And I would endeavor, if I were you, to well please my master."
"Yes," she said, looking up, "I would endeavor to well please my master."
I brought the raft to rest at the island. I had had her stand and was reaching to remove the collar from her throat when we heard, it seemed from far off, a piteous cry.
"It is an animal," she said, frightened.
I looked at her.
"An animal, caught in sand!" she said.
"No," I said.
We heard the cry again. To be sure, it had a weird, inhuman sound about it.
"Yes," she said.
"No," I said. "It is a man."
I then waded into the marsh and thrust the raft higher on the sand.
We heard the cry again.
I drew the length of binding fiber from her collar and began to tie her hands behind her back.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked.
I saw she still had something of the free woman in her.
"You will be here when I return," I said.
"I will not run away!" she said.
"I am sure you will not," I said.
"Oh!" she said, wincing, as I jerked tight the fiber.
"There," I said, knotting it.
We heard the cry again.
"Do not investigate," she said. "It could be dangerous!"
I spun her about.
She looked at me, frightened.
"What is wrong?" she asked.
"Oh!" she said, cuffed. She turned back, again, to look at me, startled. There was blood at her lip.
"Belly," I said.
"'Belly'?" she said.
I took her by the hair and threw her angrily to the sand, on her belly.
"Feet," I said.
This time she had enough presence of mind to squirm to my feet and press her lips upon them, kissing them.
I stepped back from her. "Free woman!" I said.
She twisted about then, to her side, and then, there, lying in the sand, on her side, looked up at me, frightened, the blood at her lip, her hands tied behind her back, the strap on her throat.
"Get on your knees," I said.
"Yes, my captor!" she said, frightened, and struggled to her knees.
"I regarded her, on her knees before me.
"Please do not beat me," she said.
"Why should I do that?" I asked. "You are a free woman."
I then set off across the sand, to investigate the source of the cry. I looked back once to see her kneeling in the sand. Her hands were behind her back. Looping up to her buckled collar was the strap to her collar, that tethering her to the raft.
She was pretty on her knees.
To be sure, she was still only a free woman.
27
The Female Obtains Certain Insights
"Help!" cried the man in the sand. It was now high, about his waist. It is not hard to stumble into such sand. One might wade into it, unwittingly. Then, instead of supporting one's weight, with a give of some inches, it seems, suddenly to grasp the ankles, and then gravity begins its slow work. Most quicksand, of course, is not particularly dangerous, as often one can turn about and scramble back, out of it, or reach in one's struggles a more solid footing, or its edge, or it is only two or three feet deep. It is extremely dangerous, of course, in certain expanses and depths. For example, if one is several feet into a pool of it before one realizes this, one might be trapped, too, of course, if the sand is deep, deeper than the height of the trapped organism. Sometimes such pools are extremely treacherous, as when they have a natural concealment, the sand a
t their top, supported by surface tension, seemingly continuous with adjacent sand, or when covered with algae or swamp growth. The pools differ, too, in their density. In some one sinks relatively rapidly, in others, where the sand is of greater density, the same relative loss of elevation may take several Ehn, in some cases as much as half of an Ahn. There are several techniques for avoiding the dangers of quicksand. One may follow a tested, scouted path, either following others or keeping to marked passages, if they exist; one should not go into such areas alone, one should not travel in close proximity to the others, one should have rope, and so on. If one struggles, one sinks faster. Thus, in certain cases, it is rational to attempt to remain calm and call for help. Of course, if no one is about, and one will otherwise inevitably sink, it makes sense to attempt to free oneself, by wading, or, in effect, trying to swim free. If one's legs are locked in the sand, of course, one is considerably handicapped in such efforts. I think, from his appearance, that he had muchly struggled in the sand, this suggesting he was alone. But now, it seemed, he had stopped struggling, and was simply crying out for help, in case, presumably despite all probabilities, any might be about. I gathered that he had ceased his struggles, convinced that they were futile. I suspected he was correct.
The fellow in the sand wore the uniform of Ar.
I saw no one else about. I gathered that he was alone, probably foraging.
"Help!" he suddenly cried, seeing me, reaching out toward me. "Help! Help!"
He was covered with the slime and sand of the marsh.
"Friend!" he cried. "Fellow soldier of Ar! Help!"
I stood forth, at the edge of the pool of sand. He was about ten feet from me.
"Help!" he cried.
I regarded him.
"I am absolutely helpless!" he said. "I am trapped! I cannot move without sinking further!"
That seemed to me true.
"I am sinking!" he cried. "Render me assistance or I will die!"
I saw no point in disputing his assessment of the situation. As nearly as I could determine, it was perfectly correct.
"Fellow soldier of Ar," said he, "help me, I beg of you!"
"I am not a soldier of Ar," I said.
He looked at me, wildly.
"Do you not recognize me?" I asked.
He moaned with misery.
My heart was consumed with rage toward him. Had I had him within the compass of my blade I might have run him through, then hacked him into meat for tharlarion.
"Help me!" he said.
The sand was now to his chest.
I regarded him.
"Help me, friend!" said he. He put out his hand to me.
"I am not your friend," I said.
"Help me," he said. "Please!"
"You are not an honorable man," I said.
"Please!" he cried.
His eyes were wild. His hand was out, piteously, helplessly, to me.
I turned about and left the side of the pool of sand.
"Sleen! Sleen!" I heard him weep, after me.
I strode angrily back to the raft. Seeing my face, and the ferocity of my stride, Ina, on her knees by the raft, swiftly put her head down to the sand. She trembled. I seized her by the upper arms and flung her on her back in the sand and discharged lightning into her softness. Then she lay shattered, gasping, in the sand. She looked up at me, wildly. I seized up the pole from the raft in fury and strode back to the pool of sand. Then, angrily, I extended it toward the soldier of Ar, Plenius, who had been my keeper. The sand was then about his mouth. His hands reached piteously toward the pole. He could not reach it. Then he managed to grasp it with one hand, then two. Then I drew him, filthy, covered with sand and water, from the pool, to the dry land. He was trembling there.
I drew my sword. I expected him to attack me.
He drew his, but, on his knees, plunged it into the sand, before me. He did the same with his dagger.
"I am your prisoner," he said, weakly.
"No," I said, "you are a free man."
"You," he said, "a Cosian spy, would grant me my life, and freedom?"
"You are not a female," I said. On Gor it is not believed, or pretended to be believed, that the two sexes are the same. Accordingly they are treated differently.
"I have behaved dishonorably toward you," he said, "in the matter of the key on the island, when you had fittingly won it."
"Yes," I said.
"I am shamed," he said.
I was silent.
"If you wish," he said, "I shall plunge my dagger into my own breast."
"No," I said. "Begone!"
He reached to take his sword.
I stood almost over him. I was ready to cut his head from his body.
"Have you saved my life only to take it from me now?" he asked.
"If you would do war with me," said I, "stand, sword in hand."
He sheathed his blade. "You have saved my life," he said. "I have no wish, no matter what you may be, to now do war with you."
I stepped back, lest he lunge at me with the dagger. But he sheathed it, as well. With difficulty, he stood up. I saw then that not only was he harrowed from the sand, but that he was weak, and ill, probably from weeks of terror and hunger.
"How have you managed to live in the delta?" he asked.
"It is not difficult," I said.
He looked at me, startled.
"Hundreds manage," I said. "Consider the rencers."
"Have you seen such about?" he asked.
"Not recently," I said.
"There are no paths here, no trails," he said.
"None," said I, "which appear on your maps."
"It is a labyrinth," he said, wearily.
"There are the sun and stars, the winds, the flow of the current," I said.
"We are hunted by rencers," he said.
"Be too dangerous to hunt," I advised him.
"We starve," he said.
"Then you know not where to look for food," I said.
"There are the sharks, the tharlarion," he said.
"Such are sources of nourishment," I said.
"We are civilized men," he said. "We cannot survive in the delta. We are doomed here."
"Your greatest danger would be in trying to leave the delta," I said.
"The delta," he said, "has vanquished mighty Ar."
"The delta, like any woman," I said, "is conquerable. It is only that you did not know how to get her helplessly into your bonds. Had you been properly informed and prepared you could have conquered her, and then, like any other woman, have had her fittingly at your feet as a slave."
"There was treachery," he said.
"Of course," I said.
"I give you thanks," said he, "for my life, for my freedom."
"I take it you are not alone," I said.
"A handful survive," he said. "But we perish."
"What of Labienus?" I asked.
"He survives, in his way," he said.
"'In his way'?" I asked.
He shrugged.
"You had best leave," I said. "It shall be as though we had not met."
"I never thought to owe my life, or freedom, to a spy from Cos," he said.
"I am not a Cosian spy," I said.
He looked at me, startled.
"No," I said. "My mistake, it seems, was to have attempted to have been of service to Ar."
He looked at me, puzzled.
"I did not know, at the time I sought to assist the young officer, Marcus, of Ar's Station, in work for Ar, that Ar repaid her friends with ropes and the blows of whips."
"You are not of Cos, or a spy for her?" he asked.
"No," I said. "Such were false charges, arranged by those who were truly in the fee of Cos."
"Saphronicus?" he said.
"Yes," I said.
"His treachery is now well understood," he said.
"Better had it been as well understood earlier," I said.
"But perhaps only we here in the delta truly under
stand what was done to us here."
"Perhaps," I said.
"Outside," said he, bitterly, "Saphronicus may be thought to be a hero."
"I would not doubt it," I said.
"And I know another traitor," he said.
"Who?" I asked.
"That slut, the haughty Lady Ina," he said.
"Perhaps," I said.
"No," said he. "She was of the staff of Saphronicus, and surely privy to his treason."
"True," I said.
"I should like to have my hands on her," he said.
"The pole with which I rescued you," I said, "was from her barge. If you look carefully, you can see the remains of some of the gilding."
"The barge was taken then," he said.
"Yes," I said, "it was apparently taken by rencers, and burned. I found this pole in the marsh. You can see on it the marks of fire. Too, I came on some of the other wreckage later in the marsh."
"And what of the Lady Ina?"
"She was apparently captured by rencers."
"They will finish her off," he said.
"Perhaps they would make her a slave," I said.
"No," he said. "She is not woman enough to begin to understand what it would be to be a slave, let alone to be one."
Vagabonds of Gor Page 31
