Our menacing companions, armed and surly, like shadows, were still with us. There were now some fifteen of them. No more seemed to be adding to the number at present. Octantius, as I recalled, had said he would return with a hundred men. Apparently he had left several on duty during the night, or at least posted in the vicinity.
I released Ina, and she, terrified, sobbing, probably in pain, knelt beside me. I looked down, briefly, and she lifted her eyes to mine. They were terrified. The collar, simple as it was, little more than a strap of iron, was pretty on her. She should have been in one long ago.
"It is to you I belong?" she asked, terrified.
"Yes," I said. "Stay close."
"Come to us, little vulo," called one of the fellows.
"You will be safe with us," said another.
"We will rescue you," called another, softly.
"Keep with me," I said.
"It is he whom we want," said one of them, "not you."
"Get out of the way," said another. "Run, leave, you may be hurt."
"Run, little vulo," called another. "Stray, if you wish. It does not matter. You will soon be picked up by another master."
"Run," said another. "There is nothing to fear. You will not be long off a chain."
"Stay close," I said.
"I am afraid!" she wept.
"Stay close," I said.
"I do not know what to do!" she wept.
"Stay close to me," I said.
"I am only a slave!" she wept.
"Stay close," I said.
Suddenly, with a wild sob, she leaped to her feet and ran toward the men, but she had scarcely gone a step or two when she stopped, in terror. The nearest fellow had hurried forward, his sword raised. She screamed and fell to her knees, covering her head. There was a flash of sparks as I blocked his blow. Then, she on her belly between us, weeping, we fought over her. No more than two or three times the blades clashed and then he staggered back, a tiny bit of blood, little more than a line, on his tunic, over the heart.
"Get the girl!" cried a fellow.
She had apparently crawled out from between us, risen to her feet and fled back. I caught one fellow in the gut with the blade as he made to rush past me, after her. Another went past and I cut him down, at the neck, from behind. I looked about. I was alone. One of the gates leading down the steps to the stock pit had been opened and she had apparently fled through it, to cross the pit and ascend the steps on the other side, to flee back further in the camp. Most of the men had followed her through the gate, some had circled about the fence.
"Where is she?" I heard someone call.
I heard a woman scream.
"That is not she!" said a man.
"Search the area!" cried a man.
"Search the camp!" cried another.
I circled the sunken sales area. I saw men rushing about amongst the cages and poles. Some of the girls naked in the tiny cages, in chains, shrank back, as far as they could, behind the bars. One of the women chained kneeling to a slave pole by the wrists clutched it as men rushed past. Another, backed against a slave pole, her hands chained together behind it, over her head, sucked in her belly and pressed, terrified, back against it.
I caught one of the fellows who had followed us against some empty, tiered kennels.
"No!" he cried.
I left him there.
I suddenly came on a fellow. He regarded me wildly. No! He was not one of those who had followed us! I had nearly cut him down.
I looked about.
The camp was large, but I did not think she would find it too easy to hide in it. Most cages and boxes would be locked, of course. Too, she was not on a chain. It would presumably be only a matter of time until she, a lovely barefoot slave loose in the camp, would attract attention. Then she would presumably be summoned to a chain or would be braceleted and held. Even if she found an excellent temporary hiding place, presumably it would not serve to conceal her indefinitely. If necessary, every square hort of the camp could be examined. Also, I did not think she could get out of the camp. It was surrounded with slave wire. She could be cut to pieces on it. Too, there were guards, and sleen.
I decided to continue looking for her.
A girl cried out, almost under my feet, twisting about in her chains. I had nearly stepped on her. She was fastened between two stakes.
I passed between tiers of cages, several of which had women in them, huddled back, chained, behind the bars.
I looked behind some of these tiers. I saw nothing, only refuse, and an urt hurrying away.
"Why is your blade drawn, fellow?" asked a man, a slaver's man.
I did not respond to him, but passed him.
I wondered if Ina had been taken by now. If so, I did not think I could help her. She had not had much of a start.
In one aisle in the camp I encountered two female slaves, naked, chained to yokes, their ankles shackled as well. From each termination of both yokes there was suspended a large wooden bucket of wastes. They were doubtless on their way to some part of the camp, probably a fosse or pit, set aside for the deposit of such materials. I think they were only too happy to kneel in my presence, this permitting them to rest the buckets on the dirt floor of the aisle, between cages. Both were quite pretty. I wondered if their present duty had been assigned to them as a discipline or punishment.
"Have you see a fair-haired slave in a brown tunic about, loose?" I asked.
"No, Master," they said, bent deeply over, looking up at me, fearfully, from the yokes.
I then left them behind, on their knees. They were, I suspected, new slaves. Perhaps in the recent past their demeanor had suggested to someone that they might have been tempted to have less than a total commitment to perfect pleasingness and instant obedience. Now, however, they had learned to kneel before men and look up at them with fear.
I was then among some wagons. I looked into the backs of several slave wagons, most of which were empty. In some of them there were slaves, who, startled, turned about, with a sound of chains, their ankles fastened about the central bar, near the floor of the wagon bed, parallel with its long axis. In one there was a hooded, back-braceleted woman sitting on the floor of the wagon bed, her back against one side. Her knees were pulled up, and must remain so, at her keeper's pleasure. She could not extend her legs because of a belly rope, a length of which passed behind her and then forward, being tied about her ankles. She was also chained by the neck to one side of the wagon and a shackle was about her left ankle, below the ropes, attaching her to the central bar. Beyond this there were several coarse ropes wound tightly about her body. Her nudity was almost concealed by them. Perhaps she was a free woman of Brundisium who had been arrogant and was now to be smuggled out of the area, to begin her life anew and on a more fitting basis, in a collar, at the feet of a master. There was no custodial need, of course, for the weight and plenitude of the restraints on her. She was merely being accustomed, I assumed, to the feel of bonds on her body. She would doubtless soon learn to beg to be pleasing, that their number might be lessened. She turned her hooded visage toward me, twisting in the restraints. She made tiny noises. Within the hood she was gagged. I then pulled down the canvas. She had a very pretty figure but it was not that of Ina. There was no blanket on the floor of the wagon.
I looked about.
Here and there, near the wagons, there were slave sacks, some occupied, usually with tags on them. These, however, were either locked shut, or tied or buckled shut. That could not be done from the inside.
"What are you doing here?" asked a fellow.
"Have you seen a blond slave," I asked, "loose, in a slit-sided brown tunic, in a strap collar?"
"No," he said.
I continued my search.
I passed a processing point but the chain, overhead, to which the shorter, individual neck chains would be attached, was not now moving. There were two or three long, low, narrow tarsk cages nearby, with chain-link sides, in which some women were waitin
g for processing. One or two, kneeling, were looking out, their fingers hooked in the linkage. Each cage, I noted, was locked.
I stepped aside to let a cage wagon roll by, going to the wagon yard. There were seven women in it, apparently free women, stripped.
"The camp does not open officially for another Ahn," said a fellow.
"What is going on?" asked another fellow, a slaver's man.
"Nothing," I said.
"Have you seen a blond slave in a brown tunic?" asked one of them, of me.
"Why do you ask?" I asked.
"There are several fellows about," he said, "looking for her."
"If I should see her," said one of the fellows, he who had apprised me that the camp was not yet officially open, "I will get her in slave hobbles in no time."
"There may be a reward," said another fellow.
"Yes," agreed another.
"Everyone will be looking for her," said the first fellow.
"She cannot escape the camp," said another.
"She will be apprehended momentarily," said another.
"Yes," said another.
In a moment or two, I stopped a few yards from a registration desk. There one of Ina's pursuers, I recognized him from earlier, was making inquiries of one of the five camp prefects, fellows under the camp praetor. The prefects are identified by five slash marks, alternately blue and yellow, the slavers' colors, on their left sleeve, the praetor himself by nine such stripes, and lesser officials by three. Turning about, apparently alerted by the prefect's notice, the fellow with one hand suddenly turned the prefect's desk to its side so that it stood wall-like between us, and hurried behind it.
"Begone!" he cried. "It is no longer a concern of yours! Begone!"
I advanced on him and he turned and fled.
The prefect, not much pleased, looked after him. Then he turned to face me. "No," he said, "I know nothing about a runaway blond slave."
I nodded. Runaway slaves, incidentally, are extremely rare on Gor. That is the sort of absurdity which even the most stupid girl is likely to try no more than once. It is not merely that Gorean masters tend not to be tolerant of such behavior in their female slaves, but that there is really nowhere to run. The society is tightly knit, the girl is marked, and so on. The girl is extremely likely to be returned promptly in chains to her rightful master, to be subjected in terror to the consequences of his displeasure, or, if not, to be kept or sold for the pleasure or profit of others, usually to serve them then in a custody far more severe, fearful and arduous than that which was her former lot. The slave girl on Gor soon learns, if she does not already know, the categoricality of her condition, that it is for all practical purposes, and for all realistic possibilities, inescapable, inalterable and absolute.
"Would you like me to have a search organized?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"Perhaps you would like to have a general announcement made?" he said.
"No," I said.
"What would you have done with that fellow, if you had caught him?" he asked.
"Kill him," I said.
I then continued my search.
I was not optimistic about its successful conclusion. By now it seemed likely that someone, somewhere in this large camp, might well have her in custody. She could be lying somewhere now, trussed like a vulo in a market. Indeed, if any of her original pursuers had apprehended her, she might be dead. The fellow from whom I had saved her, when she had fled from my side toward the pursuers, had been clearly ready to slay her. Indeed, he had attempted to do so. I had barely managed to block his blow. She had then fled back and I, and, I gathered, the others, had lost her, at least for the time.
I strode into one of the holding areas.
Girls back-braceleted to stakes pulled back their legs as I moved past. Some front-braceleted to stakes quickly pressed against them, or crawled to the other side. Others, their wrists chained about bars, lay close to them. Others, back from the main aisles, chained in numbered spaces on racks, observed me.
"May I help you?" asked a fellow.
"I am looking for a female," I said, "a blond girl, in a brown tunic, with a strap collar, who fled from me."
"Unbidden?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"I would not care to be her," he said.
"Could she have sneaked into a slave box here?" I asked.
"They are locked," he said, "and the keys are either out, or on my belt."
I then left the holding area. Ina, to be sure, might have discarded her brown tunic. She had quite possibly done so. She could not, of course, discard the collar.
Where, I asked myself, might such a wench hide?
She might, I thought, have attempted to hide in the infirmary.
On the way to the infirmary I passed a mat area where a girl on her stomach, to the snapping of a whip, was being taught to lift her body placatingly. Later, when the camp was officially open and crowded the mat areas are often used for trying out slaves.
Before reaching the infirmary I also passed an area where there was a coffle of girls. The first girls on the chain were in tears and others, toward the end, were looking toward the beginning of the chain, apprehensively. One girl, toward the center of the chain, was standing very still, tears streaming down her cheeks. A slaver's man with a bowl of lather and a razor was shaving her, completely. Her head had already been shaved. These girls were doubtless to be part of the cargo of a slave ship, probably bound for Cos or Tyros. The shaving is for hygienic reasons, to protect them in the crowding and the filth, on the shelves, from parasites. Even so they are usually submerged in a slave dip shortly after landing.
I saw one of Ina's pursuers but he, seeing me, hurried in another direction.
Continuing toward the infirmary I passed a small punishment area. There were several such in the camp. Such areas, interestingly, are seldom used. That they exist seems more than sufficient for most girls. In this one there was a woman chained by the neck to a post. Other than this she was sitting with her back to the post in a common slave tie, her arms down between her thighs, her left wrist passing under her left calf and tied on the outside of her left ankle, the right wrist passing under the right calf and tied on the outside of the right ankle. I have seen this tie used even in the Barrens, by the red savages on their white female slaves. The woman looked at me in terror. She feared, I suppose, that I was he who had come to mete out her punishment. She may have been waiting for Ahn, in ignorance not only of he who was to administer her punishment but also, probably, even of what the punishment was to be. In the tie I have mentioned, incidentally, the woman is not only rendered totally helpless but her sense of vulnerability is considerably increased. In it she cannot close her legs. This latter aspect, of course, is a feature of several popular slave ties.
"May I help you?" asked a fellow.
He had a small booth, specializing in slave harnesses.
I thought Ina would look well in one.
"Have you seen a blond slave, loose?" I asked.
"No," he said.
I made to turn away.
"Have you lost one?" he asked.
"Perhaps," I said.
"If you had had her in one of my harnesses," he said, "you would still have her in your keeping."
"Doubtless," I said.
"I have a lovely chain model here," he said.
I was then at the infirmary. I had not known if it would be a practical place to hide or not. I found that it was not. There the girls lay on wooden pallets, on the ground, chained to them by the wrists, ankles and neck. They were helpless and in plain view. There was no way that Ina could have managed to hide there.
I then heard, from several yards away, some shouts and screams. I swiftly sped toward the place.
In a moment or two I saw several of the fellows who had been after Ina angrily thrusting small, tiered slave cages about, some of them even climbing amongst them, several feet above the ground.
Several of these cages, stack
ed in rows, were occupied. Some of the slaves screamed, the cages moved about, some teetering. The girls in these cages, for the most part, were nude. Women are usually kept naked in such cages. This is to be expected, as the slave is an animal. You would not expect, for example, to find animals clothed in a zoo or menagerie. Less common, the girls were chained within the cages. I supposed that had to do with the camp being a sales camp, and the likely temporary tenancies of many of the girls in such cages. Removed from such a device then, for sale, or processing, or whatever, no time would be lost in placing chains on their fair limbs. They were already there.
Gorean men know well how to keep slaves. The slave girl on Gor need have no fear that she will not be well kept.
I wondered if the fellows might have caught sight of Ina in this area. It was not the sort of place I would have expected her to hide, the crevices between the stacks of such cages being rather open, and often serving as urt courses, and such, but who knew?
"Have you found her yet?" I asked one of Ina's pursuers.
"No," he said, turning about, and taking my sword in the gut.
"The killer!" cried one of the fellows up on the tiers. "Look out! The killer!"
He began to thrust slave cages toward me, from the top tier, their occupants screaming, four or five tumbling down toward me, then crashing to the dirt aisle.
I could not get to any of the others.
If Ina were here somewhere she was safe for the moment. I climbed up, climbing on the cages, to get to the top tier. From there, moving about, I could look between the rows. From this vantage, too, of course, I could look about, over the vast floor of this open structure, beneath its wooden roof, supported on numerous tall, squared pillars. I saw more rows of cages, a commissary, two kitchens, the infirmary, a punishment area, two mat areas, the harness booth, some holding areas, chains of women. I also saw various shops, rather like stalls in a bazaar. Looking down between the cages I saw only an urt below. In the aisle at the foot of the cages I saw several dislodged cages, tipped about one way and the other, some of which had been pulled loose in their search, and some of which, tumbling down, had been directed at me, none of which, happily, had struck me. I also saw the fellow I had run through, sprawled in what was now, about him, red mud.
Vagabonds of Gor Page 51
