Vagabonds of Gor

by Norman, John;

  "Is she slave desirable?" he asked.

  "She is not a slave," I said.

  "But if she were a slave?" he asked.

  "If she were actually a slave," I said, "I think then, yes, she would be slave desirable."

  "So attractive?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said.

  "And you call her 'Ina'?" he asked, again.

  "Yes," I said.

  He put forth his hand and I held Ina in place, my hand in her hair, as his fingers lightly touched her face.

  He then drew back his hand, and sat upright again, on the rock.

  I then, by the hair, flung Ina to her stomach in the sand before Labienus. She lay there then, her ankles up behind her, her wrists, by the fiber linking them to her ankles, pulled back, toward them.

  "She bellies to you," I said.

  I then, by the back of the neck, moved Ina's head over Labienus' feet. She pressed her lips to them, kissing them.

  "Aiii!" cried a fellow.

  I then, she wincing, pulled her up, by one arm and her hair.

  "She now, again, kneels before you," I said.

  "Ina," I said, "do you beg to please the captain?"

  She cast me a wild look.

  "One whimper for 'Yes,'" I said, "two for 'No.'"

  She turned to the captain, and whimpered once.

  "Aiii," cried more than one man.

  But Labienus, smiling, waved his hand, dismissing her.

  I thrust her to her side, to the side, in the sand. She looked back at me, startled. She had been dismissed. She had been rejected.

  "I am grateful to you for your generosity with the captive," said Labienus. "It does you honor."

  "Her use is yours, whenever you wish," I said.

  "My thanks, Warrior," said he.

  "It might be well for you to avail yourself of her," I said.

  "I think not," he said. "There is another matter more pressing to which I wish to give careful consideration."

  "As you wish," I said. I did not understand what this other matter might be but, at the time, supposed it to have to do with our impending journey.

  I turned to look at Ina. She lay on her side in the sand, terrified. The men had gathered about her, some crouching, looking down at her. She looked small and luscious, helplessly bound, in the sand. She looked about herself, from face to face, as she dared, then, again and again, looked quickly away. She could not help but note that the eyes of the men were eagerly and unabashedly feasting themselves upon what was apparently to them some vulnerable, delicious object of incredible desire, and that this object was she herself.

  "Do not be afraid, rence girl," said Plenius.

  She looked over to me, pleadingly, pathetically, the once-rich, once-powerful, once-haughty Lady Ina, of Ar, she who had been of the staff of Saphronicus, she who had been mistress of the purple barge, she who was confidante to, and observer for, Talena, once the daughter of Marlenus of Ar.

  Plenius turned to regard me.

  Ina looked at me, wildly. She might as well have been a slave girl, tethered to a stake for a squad's pleasure.

  "You may untie her ankles," I informed Plenius, "then hand her about."

  He turned back to the girl, bending to her ankles. The others, too, then crowded about her.

  I heard her gasp, probably as her ankles were jerked apart, preparing her for usage.

  She was a highly intelligent woman, was the lovely Lady Ina, and I did not doubt but what she would keep well within the character of a mute rence girl. Surely better that than the impaling spear.

  I heard her gasp again, startled.

  I supposed that when she had entered the delta in the purple barge, she, a high lady of Ar, in her silks and jewels, had not expected to serve common soldiers in one of the familiar modalities of a lowly captive.

  I heard her utter a sudden, inarticulate cry.

  "Ah!" cried a fellow.

  "I, I!" cried another fellow.

  I heard her gasp, again, startled, and then, in a moment, utter another cry.

  "Ai!" said a fellow.

  It had doubtless been weeks since these fellows had had a woman. And the Lady Ina, even though she was not a slave, was yet, as a Gorean saying has it, a juicy pudding.

  She began to sob, though whether with sorrow, confusion, protest, passion or excitement, it was difficult to tell.

  In another moment or two she was in the arms of another fellow.

  "I!" cried another. "I!"

  "No, I!" cried another.

  I feared they might fight for her, as might ravening sleen over the first piece of meat thrown to them in days.

  Ina cried out, again seized, and was thrown back, again, into the sand.

  I heard the sound of striking against her body, the subjection of it to the blows of a fellow's mastery and joy.

  She was gasping.

  I feared they might not be showing her sufficient respect. They did not know, of course, that she was the Lady Ina, but they would know, or believe, presumably, that she was a free woman. She was, for example, not branded. To be sure they would presumably accept her as a simple, lowly rence girl, and much had they suffered at the hands of rencers. There is a tendency, of course, to be stricter and crueler with women of the enemy than with others not so distinguished, making them in a sense stand proxy for the foe. It sometimes takes a new slave weeks, for example, to convince a master that she is no longer really a citizeness of a foreign state but now only an animal who belongs to him, one who solicits his indulgence, one who begs his kindness, and one who hopes to serve and please him, her master, as much or more than any similar animal which might be in his possession.

  "She is hot!" said a fellow.

  Ina made an inarticulate cry of protest.

  "Yes!" said another.

  Ina, as I caught sight of her, was shaking her head, negatively.

  "Do not lie to us, rence slut!" snarled a man.

  I heard her cuffed.

  "Look," said a fellow.

  Ina uttered a startled, warm, helpless little cry.

  "See?" asked the fellow.

  "Yes," said the other.

  "She is hot all right," said a man.

  "She is worthy of the iron," said a man.

  "Yes," said another.

  Now I heard Ina whimpering, and moaning.

  Labienus, for whatever reason, had rejected her.

  "Aii!" cried a fellow.

  I heard Ina handed to yet another fellow.

  Then she was moaning again, her head back, her hair about, helpless in this new grasp.

  "I am ready again!" said a fellow.

  "Wait!" snarled a fellow.

  I feared Ina might cry out in words, belying our posture of her muteness, but she did not do so.

  "Hurry!" said a man.

  Ina made a protesting noise, a begging noise, that he who gripped her take pity upon her and not too soon desist in his attentions.

  "Ah!" cried the fellow in whose grasp she lay.

  "I am next!" said a man.

  "Give her to me!" said another.

  Labienus, for whatever reason, had rejected her. To these fellows, however, she was a dream of pleasure.

  "Superb!" said a fellow.

  "Let us instruct her in how to move," said a man.

  "She is not a slave," said a fellow.

  "What does it matter?" asked another.

  "Next you will want to teach her tongue work," said another.

  "An excellent idea," said a man.

  "Do you wish to learn tongue work, mute rence slut?" asked a man.

  Ina made a frightened noise.

  "Yes?" he asked.

  Ina, terrified, whimpered once.

  "Good," said the fellow.

  Ina did not now, it seemed, have to fear dismissal, or rejection.

  "Tarl, of Port Kar," said Labienus.

  "I am here, Captain," I said.

  "Are any others close about?" he asked.

  "I do not think so clos
e that they might overhear soft speech," I said.

  "Too," smiled Labienus, "I gather they are occupied."

  "It would seem so," I said.

  Labienus did not look directly at me while he spoke. Rather he looked out over the marsh. He did not see anything, however, as he was blind. This was the result of the work of the sting flies, or, as the men of Ar are wont to call them, the needle flies. In their attacks he had insufficiently defended himself from their depredations which, too often, are toward the eyes, the surfaces of which are moist and reflect light. Most, of course, would shut or cover their eyes, perhaps with cloth or their hands or arms. The rencers use rence mats most commonly, or hoods made of rence, for these, screenlike, permit one to see out but are too small to admit the average sting fly. Had Labienus protected himself, and not tried, at all costs, to maintain his cognizance and command, I do not doubt but what he, like the others, could have prevented the flies, in numbers, from inflicting such injuries on himself. He must have been stung several times in, or about, the eyes. Labienus, in my opinion, was a fine, responsible, trustworthy officer. His faults in command, as I saw them, however, had been several. He had been too inflexible in his adherence to orders; he had had too great a confidence in the wisdom and integrity of his superiors; he had been too slow to detect the possibilities of betrayal and treason; he had not speedily extricated his command from a hopeless situation; and even on the level of squad tactics, by attempting to maintain cognizance and command in a situation in which it was impractical to do so, he had, in the long run, by sustaining grievous personal injury, jeopardized not only himself but the men who depended upon him. To be sure, many of these faults, as I thought of them, might, from another point of view, have been regarded as virtues. I suspected that it had not been an accident that Labienus had been in command of the vanguard. Saphronicus had probably wanted a simple, trusting, reliable, tenacious, indefatigable officer in that post, one who would continue to doggedly carry his command deeper and deeper into the delta, regardless of what might appear to be the hazards or untenabilities of the situation.

  "The rence woman you brought into the camp is a mute," he said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Surely it is unlikely that a given rence girl, picked up in the marsh, would be a mute," he said.

  "Yes," I said. "I would think it extremely unlikely."

  "But such a thing could occur," he said.

  "Certainly," I said.

  "I gather that it was you who prepared the tharlarion for the men," he said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Why would the rence girl not do that?" he asked. "Surely she would expect to have to do that."

  "I would not wish to place a weapon in her hands," I said. This seemed to me a plausible reply as she, supposedly a recent capture, might not yet be fully aware of the irrationality and uselessness of even token resistance. Similarly in many cities a slave may be slain, or her hands cut off, for so much as touching a weapon.

  "Doubtless you would expect her, from time to time," he said, "to handle utensils, to serve, for example, in kitchens."

  "She is not yet branded and collared," I said.

  "It is surprising to me," he said, "that rencers are not scouring the delta to recover her."

  "Perhaps they are," I said.

  "Perhaps," he said.

  "Perhaps she was fleeing an unwanted mating," I said. She had tried to convince me of that, or something like that, I recalled, when she was pretending to be a rence girl, preposterous though that was, with her accent, when I had first encountered her on the pole, tied there for tharlarion.

  "And found herself instead in your ropes?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Perhaps she, a mute rence girl, doubtless an outcast, was merely living alone in the marsh when you found her?"

  "Perhaps," I said.

  "The Lady Ina," he said, "for whom you have named your capture, was also, as I recall, just a bit short of average height for a female."

  "Or thereabouts," I said.

  "That would make the name more appropriate," he said.

  "Of course," I said.

  "Your Ina," he said, "is blond, you said."

  "Yes," I said.

  "So, too," said he, "was the Lady Ina, of Ar."

  "Oh?" I said.

  "Yes," he said. "I once saw some wisps of her hair, blown from beneath her hood."

  "Interesting," I said.

  "But that coincidence, too," he said, "merely makes the name more appropriate."

  "True," I said.

  "It is my understanding that blond rencers are rare," he said.

  "But, of course," I said, "there are some such." I had seen some, years ago.

  "Undoubtedly," he said.

  "Though you are blind," I said, "I think you see some things more clearly than your men."

  We listened for a few moments to the soft cries of the captive, in the arms of one of the fellows of Ar.

  "Do you believe in justice?" he asked.

  "Occasionally," I said.

  "What of justice for traitresses?" he asked.

  "There are many different forms of justice," I said.

  "You claim her as your own, by capture?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said. "She is mine, by capture."

  "Entirely yours?"

  "Yes," I said, "entirely mine."

  "We shall not pursue the matter further," he said.

  "I concur," I said.

  "You might permit her to speak, if you wish," he said.

  "I think not," I said. "Your men might cut her throat."

  "True," he said.

  He heard Ina gasping and crying out, now totally at the mercy of the esurient males who so masterfully fondled and exploited her.

  "She is making too much noise," said a fellow.

  "Fold the slave strips," said another.

  "Here," said a fellow to Ina, a moment or two later, "bite down on these."

  We now heard her muffled whimpers.

  "She responds like a slave," smiled Labienus.

  "And so, too," I said, "does any woman, properly mastered."

  "True," he smiled.

  "Perhaps you wish to try her yourself," I said.

  "No," he said.

  "She is excellent," I said, "and if she were a slave, she might become, in time, truly superb."

  "It is an amusing thought, is it not?" he asked.

  "Yes," I said, well considering that it was the once-proud Lady Ina of whom we spoke.

  "But all women wish to be slaves," he said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Because in their hearts they are slaves," he said.

  "Yes," I said.

  "Fifty thousand men," said he, looking out over the marsh, "entered the delta."

  "I had thought perhaps something in that number," I said.

  "How many do you think managed to withdraw safely?" he asked.

  "Probably many," I said, "particularly before the deployment of the rencers. Not all commanders were as determined as you."

  "The rencers were soon in position," he said.

  "That is true," I said.

  "How many would you think?" he asked.

  "I have no idea," I said.

  "My information, conjoined with plausible conjectures," he said, "would suggest at least five hundred, and probably no more than five thousand."

  "Even if five thousand managed to withdraw," I said, "that would still constitute one of the greatest of military disasters in the history of the planet."

  "And of those five thousand, if there were so many, how many do you think could reach Holmesk, or Venna, or Ar safely?"

  "I do not know," I said. "Hopefully a goodly number, particularly if Saphronicus fell back on Holmesk."

  "That is where he will be," said Labienus.

  "Oh?" I said.

  "Certainly," he said. "Thence he can march southeast to join the Viktel Aria."

  "Cosians will not attempt to interpose themselves?" I asked.
/>   "Not between Holmesk and the Viktel Aria," he said, grimly, "but in a line between the Vosk and Brundisium, between the delta and Holmesk, to close the path to Holmesk."

  "I understand," I said.

  "Only the most cunning and resourceful will reach Holmesk," he said.

  "Ar might be reached by a variety of routes," I said. "I myself would go first actually to Brundisium, and thence to Ar."

  "That would be bold, indeed," he said.

  "It might not be advisable for you or your men to attempt that route," I said, "with your accents."

  "No," he said.

  "You do not think the Cosians will attempt to prevent Saphronicus from reaching Ar?"

  "No," he said. "Saphronicus will return to Ar, a tragic hero, muchly betrayed, to be celebrated for saving some remnants of his forces. He may be granted a triumph."

  "You are bitter," I said.

  "I was told by Saphronicus," he said, "that I was one of his finest officers."

  "I am sure you are," I said.

  "It was for that reason that I was entrusted with the command of the vanguard," he said, "to be the first to make contact with the retreating Cosians."

  "I am sure," I said, "you were among the most dedicated, reliable, and loyal of the officers." I had little doubt of this, given what I knew of him.

  "And he made public declarations to that effect," said Labienus.

  "I see," I said.

  "Should I manage to reach Holmesk," he said, "I might be granted signal honors. I might be decorated, as a veteran of the delta."

  "Perhaps," I said. I wondered if Labienus was mad. Yet his manner did not suggest this.

  "First, I must manage to extricate my men from the delta," he said.

  "I will do my best to be of service," I said.

  He put out his hand and I took it. He clasped my hand.

  "Then," said he, "I have one final duty."

  "What is that?" I asked.

  "I must make my report to Saphronicus," he said.

  "I see," I said. I decided that Labienus, after all, was mad.

  "There will be no difficulty in obtaining an audience with him, should I reach Holmesk," he said. "It would be politically impossible for it not to be granted. I am a veteran of the delta, leader of the vanguard, one of his finest officers."

  "Of course," I said.

  The fellows who had clustered about Ina had now muchly finished with her, most of them going to various points in the small camp, to rest before we left. Two of them were still near her, busying themselves with her.