"Sit on the tiles," she said.
I did so. I sat naked on the tiles.
She threw a linkage of rings and bells to the tiles beside me. "Bell yourself," she said.
"They lock," I said.
"Bell yourself," she said.
I extended my left ankle and, carefully, aligned the four rings. The rings were linked vertically at five places by tiny metal fastenings; each ring, opened, hinged, terminated on one end with a bolt and on the other with a tiny lock; I slipped the small bolts into the four tiny locks; there were four tiny snaps; the rings, linked together, fitted snugly; each ring bore five slave bells.
I looked at the bells. They were locked upon me.
I dared not move my foot, for fear I might cry out for a man.
"Can you dance naked?" asked Sucha.
"I do not know the dances of a slave girl," I whispered. "I cannot dance."
"Do you know the arrangements of pleasure silks?" she asked.
"No, Mistress," I said, putting down my head.
"Do you know the cosmetics and perfumes of a slave girl, and their application?" she asked.
"No, Mistress," I said.
"The jewelries?" she asked.
"No, Mistress," I said.
"Do you know the giving of exquisite pleasures to a man?" she asked.
"I know very little, Mistress," I said. I was afraid to move my ankle, for the bells.
"Are you trained at all?" she asked.
"I know very little, Mistress," I said. "A slave, Eta," I said, "in her kindness, once taught me simple things, that I might not be completely displeasing and would not be too often whipped."
"Who was your last master?" asked Sucha.
"Tup Ladletender," I said, "a peddler."
"Before that?"
"Thurnus of Tabuk's Ford, of the Peasants," I said.
"Before that!" she said.
"Clitus Vitellius, of Ar, of the Warriors," I said.
"Good," said Sucha.
"But I was owned only briefly by him," I said.
"Before that?" she asked.
"Two warriors," I said. "I did not know who they were, only that I was theirs." Sucha did not question this. Often a girl does not find out who a master is. She might be caught in the afternoon, enslaved in the evening and sold in the morning.
"Before that?" asked Sucha.
"I was free," I said.
Sucha looked at me, and laughed. "You?" she queried.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
Sucha laughed. I blushed, hotly. I gathered that the collar looked natural upon me.
"You know little or nothing of the arts of the female slave," said Sucha. "You seem to know nothing of the movements and glances, the positions, attitudes and postures, the expressions, of a slave girl, let alone the techniques, crafts and subtleties that may determine whether or not men permit you to live."
I looked at her, frightened.
"But you are pretty," she said. "Men are more lenient with a pretty girl. There is hope for you."
"Thank you, Mistress," I whispered.
"Why have you not moved your left ankle?" asked Sucha.
"The bells," I whispered.
"What of them?" asked Sucha.
"They shame me," I said. "They make me feel so much a slave."
"Excellent," said Sucha. Then she snapped, "Rise, Slave Girl!"
I leaped to my feet with a jangle of bells. I was a belled slave.
"Walk to one end of the room and back," said Sucha.
"Please, no Mistress!" I begged. She lifted the whip. I did as she commanded. When I again stood before her she, to my dismay, touched me.
I turned my head away, biting my lip in shame.
"Excellent," she said. "A mere jangle of slave bells and you are ready for the arms of a man."
"Please, Mistress," I begged.
"You are a hot little slut," she said. "Kneel before the mirror."
I did so.
"There are one hundred and eleven basic shades of slave lipstick," said Sucha. "Much depends on the mood of the master."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
Later many of the other girls joined us in the room of preparation, for they must serve, as I, in the repast of the evening. It is common in a Gorean fortress, if it is not under siege, for the evening to be a time of pleasure for the men.
"In five Ehn," cried a man from outside, "you must be in the hall of the feast."
The girls cried out nervously, making last minute additions or adjustments to their jewelries and silks. Some intently applied cosmetics. Two nearly fought over a small disk of eye shadow, but the whip of Sucha, lowered between them, divided them. Sulda seemed radiant, returned from the couch of Hak Haran. She applied lipstick. The girls smoothed their silks.
I looked at the incredibly lovely girl in the mirror, she bedecked in a rope of red silk, made-up, perfumed vulnerable, soft, with armlets and bracelets, golden beads intertwined in the Turian collar.
"She is beautiful," I whispered. Sucha had much helped me.
"Rather pretty for a peddler's girl," smiled Sucha.
"I am afraid," I said.
"Do not be afraid," said Sucha.
"What are my duties?" I asked.
"Exquisite beauty and absolute obedience," said Sucha.
I looked at the girl in the mirror. I remembered the words of Thurnus. "You belong at the feet of men," he had said. I looked at the girl in the mirror. Her ankle was belled. She was beautiful. She was a collared, silked, perfumed slave. She was very beautiful. I had no doubt she belonged at the feet of men. She was a slave girl. She was I.
"Exquisite beauty and absolute obedience," said Sucha.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
I heard the pounding of a metal bar on the inner gate leading to the quarters of the slave girls.
The girls were frightened. Even Sucha seemed frightened. "Hurry," she cried. "Hurry!"
We fled from the room of preparation, to the inner gates. Soon I, and the others, had been ushered through the two gates, and I, with them, found myself beyond the gates, barefoot on the carpeting, between the vases at the ornate walls, being hurried to the pleasure of masters.
12
The Silver Leaf
"Master?" I asked.
I knelt before him, lifting the platter of meats to him.
With a Turian eating prong he forked meat from the platter onto his plate. The girl kneeling beside him lifted wine to him.
I arose and went to kneel before the next man, to offer him viands from the platter I bore.
The sensuous music of Turia filled the room. The girl in yellow silk, belled, danced her beauty among the tables.
I had been more than a month now in the keep of Stones of Turmus.
Often was I kept late to serve the men. I had learned much from Sucha. I was a different girl now from the one who had been sold for six copper tarsks to Borchoff, Captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus. Well could he congratulate himself on his buy.
"What did she cost you?" a lieutenant had asked him.
"Six tarsks of copper," he had said.
"You have an excellent eye for slave flesh," had, said the lieutenant
Borchoff had grinned.
I had hurried away.
"She is paga hot," a soldier had once said. Then he had thrown me to his fellow. I could not help myself. Sometimes I lay awake in my barred alcove, weeping, not wanting to be a slave. "You are a natural slave," Sucha had once said to me. "You were born to the collar." "Yes, Mistress," I had said. I lay sometimes in my small cell, shamed, weeping. Strangely I thought often of Elicia Nevins. I had been her chief competitor in beauty at the exclusive college I had attended on Earth. How, I thought, she would have laughed at me, and scorned me, to see me now, her former beauty rival, as a slave.
"Meat, Dina!" cried a man.
I swiftly went to him, knelt, and lifted the platter to him. I did not wish to be whipped.
There were twenty-nine girls now
in the keep of Stones of Turmus. The population in the slave quarters had changed somewhat; five girls had been sold to passing Turian merchants, affiliated with the keep, but, similarly, here and there, over the weeks, some six others had been acquired. Thus the stock was kept freshened for the men.
"You will not be sold, Dina," Sucha had said to me. "You are a prize."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
We girls in the keep were pleasure slaves, but it must be clearly understood that we were the only girls in the keep. Thus, we served, too, as work slaves. Scrubbing must be done, and the sewing, and the washing and ironing of clothes, and the cleaning; too, we aided in the kitchen, usually in the preparing of vegetables and in the scouring of pots and pans; too, water must be carried to the men on the parapets; there was much work of a lowly and servile nature which it fell naturally to us, the girls of the keep, to perform. Yet generally I think we did not, have too much to complain of. We were permitted to sleep late in the slave quarters, and manual labors, for most of us, tended to be curtailed in the early afternoon, that we might rest and prepare ourselves for the evening. I think few of us did on the average more than two or three Ahn of light labors on a normal day. We were never under any delusion that our main task was not the delight and pleasure of our masters.
I was no longer low girl in the slave quarters. It was not that I had fought, for there were few girls there whom I suspected could not beat me, but that the matter had been determined by Sucha. She carried the whip. Each new girl, as she was introduced among us, became automatically low girl, the other girls being correspondingly advanced. We obeyed Sucha. She never hesitated to use the whip. We were kept in perfect order. I was not displeased. Had Borchoff not placed the whip in the hands of Sucha, I, for one, would have fared much more poorly in the slave quarters. Slave quarters, as I have mentioned, can become a jungle. This was prevented at Stones of Turmus by the whip of Sucha. I was not the only girl who was not displeased to be protected from intimidation and violence. Sometimes masters, in their cruelty, do not appoint a first girl. Then the slave girls, as best then can, by teeth and nails, must adjudicate their differences and establish a mode of governance for themselves. Sometimes masters do not appoint a first girl in order that the lower ranking girls will strive ever more desperately to please them, to become favorites, and thus to be to some extent more protected. "If you beat me, the master will not be pleased," is not a threat to be taken lightly in the slave quarters, particularly if it is thought to be true. The distant menace of the master's displeasure has its influence and effect, naturally, on the social arrangements of the kennels. Sometimes a girl will pretend to be more favored by the master than she is, for her own prestige, and to win position in the kennels. But it is not hard to know the truth in these matters. Who is most often summoned to his couch?
"Meat, Dina!" cried another man, and I hastened to him, to kneel and serve him. I wore red silk, a golden necklace about my throat, intertwined with my collar, and bells.
I saw Sucha lying soft in the arms of a lieutenant, kissing him. How marvelously she melted in his arms, his.
She was seldom permitted to carry her whip outside the slave quarters, except in conducting a new slave through the corridors and bringing her through the small iron door, as she had me. When she left the slave quarters she normally knelt before a guard and handed him the whip, her authority ended. He would then take the whip and thrust it against her lips, and she would kiss it, after which he would order her to her feet and discard the whip, which she would retrieve on her way back to the slave quarters. Outside the slave quarters we were normally under the governance not of Sucha, but men. We stood under her governance outside the quarters only when she was permitted to retain the whip. I watched her yielding in the arms of the lieutenant, moaning under his touch. She did not now have the whip. She was now, in the hall of Turian pleasures, as it is called, only another slave girl.
"Dina!" called a man.
I was struck by a soldier past whom I hurried. I gathered the man had called before, and I had not heard him. The soldier had struck me for I had been tardy in responding to the first man. I brushed the silk of the girl who danced between the tables. The music swirled about me.
I knelt before the man who had called.
"Are you deaf?" he asked.
"Forgive a miserable girl, Master," I begged. "I did not hear you."
"Give me meat," he said.
I lifted the platter to him and he thrust the eating prong into a slab of meat, hot with Turian spices. It was the last piece on the platter. He looked at me.
"I will fetch more meat immediately, Master," I said.
"You are the meat I want, Dina," he said.
"It is not yet time to serve the wine," I whispered. This is a common Gorean idiom. I was reminding him, timidly, that the time of general pleasure had not yet arrived. I, and several of the other girls, had not yet been released from our serving duties. There were still courses of the banquet to be served to our masters. In the time of desserts and wines we would crawl to their tables, slave girls.
"Fetch in the prisoner," called Borchoff, captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus.
This afternoon I had been upon the heights of the keep, carrying water to the men on the parapets. I had stood there, looking out over the wall, at the vast fields about. It was more than eighty feet to the ground.
"Is it your intention, Dina," had asked a soldier, coming up behind me, "to dash yourself to the ground?"
"No, Master," I said to him. "I am not a free woman. I am a slave girl." I backed gently against him, and lifted my head, turning it to him. I felt his hands on my arms.
"Attend to your duties, Slave Girl," he said.
"Yes, Master," I said.
I had been summoned more than once to his couch.
I poured him a cup of water from the small verrskin bag over my shoulder.
It was hot on the parapet. The stones were hot to my bare feet. I wore a brief, one-piece, brown work tunic. It was all I wore, with the exception of the collar. We wore such tunics when engaged as work slaves. The tunics of work slaves are usually brown or gray.
I looked above me at the posts mounted on the walls. Between them was slung fine wire, gently bending and swaying in the slow breeze of the hot afternoon. Such wire is tarn wire. It is used to prevent the descent of tarns into the courtyard of a fortress. It is common in Gorean defenses.
I looked again over the wall.
"Master," I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"I see dust there," I said, pointing to the road beneath, winding toward the fortress.
"They have him," said the soldier beside me.
Two tharlarion, ponderous and stately, made their way toward the keep. They were mounted by two warriors, with lances. More warriors, eight men from the keep, followed, bearing spears. Between the tharlarion, fastened by neck chains, running to the stirrups of the two beasts, strode a man. He was dark-haired. He wore chains. His wrists were fastened behind his back.
"Who is it, Master?" I asked.
"We do not know," said the soldier. "But word had come to us that he had been making inquiries concerning the keep, its defenses, and such."
"What is to be done with him?" I asked.
"He has been brought in," said the soldier. "Doubtless he will be branded, and enslaved. I do not envy him."
I watched the man. He walked proudly. I knew there were male slaves on Gor, but I had not seen them. Most Gorean slaves are female. Male `captives are commonly killed.
"Bring water to the men, Slave Girl," said the soldier.
"Yes. Master," I said. I took the cup back from the soldier, and hurried on along the parapet, to serve others.
When I was descending the stairs and had come to the courtyard between the walls, the gate had been opened, and the party, with their prisoner, had entered. The gate then closed behind them. Borchoff, captain of the keep, came to inspect the prisoner. I, curious, stood idly by, watchi
ng, the emptied water bag over my shoulder, my ankles in the dust of the courtyard.
The man was tanned, dark-haired, very dark-haired, large, strong. He wore chains. His hands were manacled behind him. He stood proudly between the two beasts, bearing easily the weight of the two stirrup chains attached to his capture collar.
It pleased me to see a man captive. He wore heavy iron manacles and could not hurt me. I approached more closely. His guards did not stop me.
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