Vagabonds of Gor

by Norman, John;

  "No," said Labienus. "Do not remove his clothing."

  "My thanks, captain," said the lad, respectfully, gratefully. I suppose he was appreciative of this not only for his own sake, but, too, because of certain delicacies of honor involved, these having to do with his family and its importance in the marsh.

  Labienus turned those frightful, dreadful sightless eyes upon the youth.

  "Captain?" asked the youth.

  Labienus did not speak.

  "I am your prisoner, captain," said the youth, uncertainly.

  "We do not take prisoners," said Labienus.

  "Ah!" cried a fellow, lifting his knife.

  Ina uttered a small cry of fear and misery.

  The lad turned white.

  "Free him," said Labienus.

  "Captain?" said a man.

  "Free him," said Labienus.

  The youth's hands were cut free.

  "We do not take prisoners," said Labienus to the youth. "You are free to go."

  "I do not understand," said the lad. He rubbed his wrists. I had made the bonds almost slave-girl tight.

  "On behalf of Gnieus Lelius, regent in Ar, and the high council of Ar," said Labienus, "I, as their envoy de facto in the delta, express their regret for the misunderstandings between our states and peoples, and in particular for that resulting in a cruel and unprovoked attack upon an innocent village. There is little to be said in excuse of such an incident but if blood can repay blood, then I think the accounts on that matter are well considered closed."

  The youth was speechless. I, too, was rather taken aback by this act of statesmanship. I had hoped for something along these lines, but I had not dared to hope for anything this humbling to Ar, and yet in its way, so grand.

  "Those of Cos," said Labienus, "may be your friends or they may not. I do not know. You must make your own judgments on that. One thing, however, I do know, those of Ar are not your enemies."

  Labienus then put out his arm, which was taken in hand by Plenius, who then conducted him to a place in the camp.

  "You are free to go," I said to the lad.

  "He will bring others after us," said a man.

  "We will be gone by then," I said.

  "You do not speak like those of Ar," said the lad.

  "I am from Port Kar," I said.

  "The rence," said the lad, "has no quarrel with Port Kar."

  "Nor Port Kar with the rence," I said.

  "How is it you are with them?" he asked.

  "I sought to be of assistance to them," I said. "They are, after all, at war with Cos, as is Port Kar, if not the rence."

  "Beware of Cosians," he said. "They, and their hirelings, infest the edges of the delta."

  I nodded. I was not pleased to hear this, but I had already suspected it would be so.

  "Leave them," he said. "They will never get through."

  "Perhaps you would care to tarry a few Ehn," I suggested.

  "I should leave," he said.

  "My friend, Plenius," I said, "has, I think, saved some hard bread in his pack, a piece or two. It is old and stale now, but you might find it of interest. Have you ever had such?"

  "No," he said. "I do not think so."

  "Would you care to try some?"

  "I think not," he said.

  "It can be fetched," I said, "when Plenius is free."

  "'Fetched'?" he said.

  "By the female, of course," I said.

  "Of course," he said.

  "Ina," I said.

  She sprang up from the sand and came and knelt before us, her head bowed.

  "Is this a slave?" he asked.

  "No," I said, "a mere captive."

  He looked upon Ina, the beauty in her appropriate posture of submission.

  "Ina," I said, "when Plenius is free, ask him if he would give you a piece of hard bread, for myself and my young friend here."

  "Yes, my captor," she said, rising from the sand, and hurrying to Plenius, who was near Labienus.

  "She obeys promptly," he observed.

  "She will be lashed well, if she does not," I said.

  "I see," he said.

  In a moment or two Ina returned, and knelt. She had with her a small piece of hard bread. It was one of the last two, I think, which Plenius had had. I was grateful to him for his generosity in giving it to us. It was one of the few things we had in the camp that would be likely to seem edible to our rence lad. It, at least, was not raw.

  "Break it in two, Ina," I said, "and give our guest the largest half."

  "Yes, my captor," she said.

  To be sure, it was not by means of the hard bread that I hoped to detain our young friend in the camp for a time.

  "Serve first our guest, Ina," I said, correcting her behavior, for she was apparently preparing to serve me first.

  "Yes, my captor," she said.

  From her knees she offered the lad the larger of the two pieces of hard bread, which he accepted, and then, similarly, served me.

  We looked upon Ina, at our feet.

  "She is muchly bared," he said.

  "By my will," I said.

  "I see," said he.

  "Men enjoy looking upon the beauty of captives and slaves. Do you not?"

  "Yes," he said, hesitantly. Then he said, "Yes!"

  "Good," I said.

  Ina's hands, she blushing beneath our gaze, stole upward, crossed, to cover her breasts.

  "You have not received permission to cover your breasts, Ina," I informed her.

  Quickly she brought her hands down, to her thighs. "Forgive me, my captor," she said.

  "Your breasts are beautiful," I told her, "and you must show them, if your captors desire."

  "Thank you, my captor," she said. "Yes, my captor."

  "Or any, or all of you," I said.

  "Yes, my captor," she said. "Forgive me, my captor."

  "How strong you are with her!" marveled the lad.

  "She is female," I explained, a bit puzzled. I was somewhat surprised at his outburst. I gathered that he might not be familiar with women under male domination.

  "How beautiful are women," he said.

  "Yes," I said. "Will you not sit down and enjoy your bread?"

  "I must be going," he said.

  I looked at Ina, somewhat sternly.

  Quickly she opened her knees, in the sand, trembling.

  "Have you ever had a woman?" I asked.

  "Perhaps," said he, "I could tarry for a moment."

  We sat down and nibbled at the hard bread.

  He could not, it seemed, take his eyes from the captive. She knelt very straight, but did not dare to meet his eyes.

  "How do you like it?" I inquired.

  "She is beautiful!" he said.

  "The bread," I said.

  "It—it is interesting," he said.

  I saw that the lad was polite. Such hard bread, and such rations, are commonly found in the packs of soldiers. Some fellows claim to like it. Plenius, for example, had been hoarding a bit of it for weeks. On the other hand, perhaps it was merely that he could not bring himself to eat it, that he was hoarding it merely as a last resort against the ravages of imminent starvation. Certainly he had volunteered it for our needs quickly enough. On the other hand, he probably did like it. Indeed, I myself was not unfond of such rations, at least upon occasion. To be sure, I would not recommend them for the pièce de résistance at an important diplomatic banquet, if only to avoid war.

  "Ina," said I, "fetch water."

  "Yes, my captor!" she said.

  We watched her hurry off on her errand.

  "Are there such women in your village?" I asked.

  "No," said he. "There is nothing like her in the village."

  "But surely there are some comely wenches there," I said, "who might, suitably clothed and trained, be much like her."

  "Ah!" said he. "Perhaps!" I did not doubt but what he had a maid or two in mind.

  We watched Ina going to the well hole, dug in the sand near
the shore earlier, into which marsh water might filter, and there kneel down, to fill a small metal bowl.

  "Where did you pick her up?" he asked, casually, rather as might a fellow to whom the acquisition of females was a familiar matter.

  "In the rence," I smiled.

  "I do not think she is a rencer," he said.

  "No," I said. "She is a woman from Ar."

  "There must be a few such in the rence," he said.

  "It would seem so," I said.

  "One," said he, "was captured not far from my village, in a purple barge. Her retainers fled."

  "Did you see her?" I asked.

  "No," he said. "My mother would not let me look upon her, naked in her bonds."

  "Why not?" I asked.

  "Perhaps she was afraid I would want her," he said.

  "Perhaps she was afraid you might become a man," I said.

  "Perhaps," he said.

  "Do you think she was much like that one?" I asked, indicating Ina, who had now filled the bowl.

  "No," said the youth, "for that one was a haughty, frigid woman, adjudged unworthy even to be a slave."

  "A woman who is haughty and frigid," I said, "need not remain that way. Indeed, it is amusing to take such a woman and turn her into a panting, begging slave."

  "This one," said he, "was adjudged unworthy of being a slave."

  "On what grounds?" I asked.

  "On the basis of her character," he said.

  "But in slavery," I said, "it is easy to reform a woman's character. The whip may be used, if necessary."

  "Perhaps," he said.

  "What was done to her?" I asked.

  "She was put out for tharlarion," he said.

  "And what happened to her?" I asked.

  "I would suppose she was devoured," he said. "Even the pole to which she was tied was uprooted."

  "What of that one?" I asked, indicating Ina, now approaching us, holding the bowl, carefully.

  "She is much different," he said.

  "How?" I asked.

  "She is warm, and soft, and exciting and obedient," he said.

  "Does she seem to you worthy to be a slave?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  "How would you know?" I asked.

  "I can tell," he said.

  "How?" I asked.

  "I have seen slaves," he said.

  "There are slaves in your village?" I asked.

  "No," he said, "but I was once taken to Ven by my father. There I saw slaves."

  "Did you like them?" I asked.

  "Yes!" he said.

  "And you had one?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  Ina now came before us and knelt, before us, close to us, with the bowl of water.

  "There are some slaves in the delta," he said, "here and there, but I have not seen them."

  "Your mother would not approve?" I asked.

  "No," he said.

  "Perhaps there are some in the village of Tamrun?" I suggested.

  "The women there," he said, "are all kept as slaves. It was done to them two years ago."

  "I see," I said.

  "My mother will not let me go to that village," he said, "but the older men from my village go."

  "I see," I said.

  "It is said that five women there wear the disk of Tamrun."

  "He must be quite a man," I said.

  "In his hut," said he, "he is well served."

  "I can imagine," I said.

  "It was shortly after that time," said the lad, "that he became one of the great leaders in the rence."

  "Interesting," I said.

  I glanced at Ina.

  "My captor?" she inquired.

  "You may serve our guest," I said.

  "In the manner in which I have been taught?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said.

  She made certain her knees were widely spread in the sand, and then she extended her arms, her head down, between them, the bowl held out to our young guest. "Water, captor?" she inquired.

  He took the bowl from her and, not taking his eyes off her, drank.

  "Unfortunately we have no wine," I said, "and, of course, she is not a slave."

  "Oh?" he said.

  "I refer to the "Wine-Master" presentation," I said, "in which the slave offers not only wine to the master, but herself, and her beauty, for his consideration."

  "Once in Ven I was proffered wine by a slave."

  "Then you understand the matter," I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Excellent," I said.

  "You are very generous," he said.

  "Not at all," I said.

  Ina shrank back.

  "As you are still a free woman, Ina," I said, "and not a slave, an animal, you still have a permissible interest in political matters."

  "My captor?" she said.

  "Doubtless you are eager to do your bit to improve relations between the rence and Ar," I said.

  "Of course," she said, frightened.

  "And in any event," I said, "as you are a captive, you have no say in such matters."

  "Of course not," she said.

  "You will give me what I wish?" the youth asked Ina. She was, after all, a free woman.

  "You are a male and I am a captive so I must give you whatever you wish," she said.

  "And you will try to do very well, will you not, Ina?" I inquired.

  "Yes, my captor!" she said, frightened.

  "I do not think my mother would approve of this," he said.

  "I doubt that your father would mind," I said.

  "I do not think so," he said.

  "What do you think he would do, if he were you, and here in this situation?" I asked.

  "True!" he said.

  Ina shrank back, again, in the sand, frightened.

  He could not take his eyes from her. She was the sort of woman that it is very difficult not to look at and, indeed, to feast one's eyes upon. In the last several days, bit by bit, she had become in effect slave soft, and slave beautiful. There are dangers, of course, in a woman becoming so soft and beautiful. Men become restless and eager in their presence, and often find it difficult to control themselves.

  "I have had only one woman before, in Ven," he said to me.

  "Do not worry about it," I said.

  "I did have her seven times," he said.

  "There you are," I said.

  "But she was a slave," he said.

  "That is all right," I said.

  "My point," said he, "is that I have never made love to a free woman."

  "That is all right," I said.

  "I do not know how to make love to a free woman," he said.

  "Do not worry about it," I said. "There is commonly little worthy of that name which takes place with free women."

  "Oh?" he said.

  "Yes," I said. "They are too much concerned with their status, dignity, freedom and independence to be any good in the furs."

  "I warn you, female," said he, "I do not know how to make love to a free woman."

  "Use me then as a slave," she said.

  "With your permission?" he inquired.

  "Of course," I said. "And, too, do not be hesitant as I assure you that pretty little Ina is already familiar with some of the rude, imperious usages to which, commonly, only slaves are subjected."

  "Excellent," he said.

  I had done these things to her, of course, not only because I, personally, like most men, relate most powerfully, deliciously and rewardingly to women in the mode of nature, as master to slave, but because I thought this might prove to be in Ina's best interests, should the burning iron ever be pressed into her flesh. Not all Gorean masters, for example, are patient with new slaves. Also, it is understandable that many women find it difficult, at first, to adjust to the dramatic volte-face involved in the transition from a lofty, respected free woman to that of a property at the feet of a master. I had hoped I might, in some degree, have mitigated the hazards of this transition in the case
of Ina, should it ever occur. Already, then, I had taught her something of obedience, service and placation.

  The youth thrust the last of the hard bread in his mouth, took another swig of water from the bowl, put it down, leaped up, and seized Ina by the hair, and then, holding her by the hair, her head at his waist, dragged her, she gasping, into some nearby shrubbery. Before she was quite there I did see her face, once, she looking at me, astonished, wincing, as she hurried beside her young use-master to the place of his choosing.

  I myself then finished the hard bread and also the water in the bowl.

  It was toward evening when the youth, refreshed and ebullient, emerged from the shrubbery.

  "You wished to detain me, did you not?" he asked, jovially.

  "I would not have insisted you remain in the camp," I said, "but it is true that I preferred that you not rejoin your fellows until after our departure."

  "I do not object," he said. He turned about, to watch Ina emerge from the shrubbery. She was crawling, on all fours. "She is not to stand, until after I have left the camp," he said.

  "Excellent," I said.

  He snapped his fingers and indicated that Ina should approach us. She did so and then looked up at us.

  "I forgot to send a whip into the shrubbery with you," I said.

  "It was not necessary," he said.

  "Good," I said.

  Ina looked down, frightened.

  "We need more such as she, only true slaves, in the delta," he said.

  "She herself would look well, branded and collared, would she not?" I asked.

  We regarded Ina.

  "Yes," he said.

  She trembled.

  "She is slave exciting," he said.

  "Or at least as slave exciting as a woman can be who is not a slave," I said.

  "Yes," he said.

  "What are you thinking of?" I asked.

  "Nothing," he said.

  "Do you care to speak of it?" I asked.

  "I was thinking of my father and my mother," he said.

  "Oh?" I said.

  "And how my father is held in, inhibited and frustrated, by my mother."

  "Keep your head down," I said to Ina.

  Immediately she lowered her head again.

  The young man continued to regard the captive.

  "You are thinking," I said, "of how well your mother would look at your father's feet, branded and in a collar."

  "I love her very much," he said, "but it is where she belongs."

  "I have no doubt about it," I said.

  "Perhaps I shall speak to my father," he said.