I heard the small noise that I had been waiting for, for several days.
She reclined in the tub, easing her lovely body gently lower in the water, closing her eyes. The water, the multicolored foams of beauty, were about her chin. Then she sat a bit more upright in the tub, the water and foam about her shoulders. She opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling.
"What is it like being a man's slave?" she asked.
"Mistress will soon know," I said.
She turned about and then, suddenly, first seeing him, cried out, startled.
"Who are you!" she cried.
"Are you the lady Elicia of Ar, of Six Towers?" he asked.
"I am she!" she cried.
"I charge you," said he, "in the name of the Priest-Kings of Gor, with being an agent of Kurii, and as such subject to the penalties connected therewith."
"I do not understand a word you are saying," she cried.
He drew forth from his tunic a folded yellow paper, closed with a seal and ribbon. I saw, on the yellow paper, stamped upon it, in black ink, large, the common Kajira mark of Gor. "I have here," he said, "a bill of enslavement, signed by Samos of Port Kar. Examine it. I trust you will find that all is in order." He threw the paper to the tiles.
"No!" she cried, frightened, trying to cover herself. Then she cried out, "Tellius! Barus!"
"Your minions," said the man, "will be of little service. It is understood they are of Cos. They are already in the custody of the magistrates of Ar."
"Tellius! Barus!" she screamed.
"You are quite alone, Lady Elicia," he said. "There are none to hear your screams."
He was tall and strong, clad in a warrior's scarlet. At his belt there was a long leash, looped.
"Emerge from your bath," said he, "and prepare to accept slave bonds."
"No!" she cried. Then she cried out to me, "Run, Judy! Fetch help!"
"Do not," said the man.
"Yes, Master," I said. I looked at the Lady Elicia. "Forgive me, Mistress," I said. "I am a slave girl who has been commanded by a man." I knelt to one side.
"Bitch! Bitch!" she cried.
"Yes, Lady Elicia, my Mistress," I said.
She spun in the tub, agonized, covering herself, to face the tall guest.
"There is some mistake!" she cried. "Leave me! You intrude in a lady's compartments!"
"Emerge from your bath," said he, "to accept the bonds of a slave."
"Never!" she cried.
"Are you a virgin?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, angrily.
"If I must fetch you in the water," he said, "you will be taken in the water."
"Bring me my robe," she said.
He went to the robe on the couch, but, instead of handing it to her, he examined it, lifting it to the light. In one sleeve, in a tiny, narrow sheath, he found a needle, which he held up. Then he approached the bath. She shrank back, frightened. He washed the needle, dried it on a towel and replaced it in the sheath. I had not known the sheath and needle were there, so cunningly had they been concealed in the weaving.
He looked at her.
I had little doubt the needle had been poisoned, probably with Kanda.
"You have disarmed me, Warrior," she said. "Will you now, please, hand me my robe."
He threw the robe to the side of the room. She looked at it, crumpled at the side of the room.
"Please," she said. "I am rich. I can give you much gold."
"Stand in the bath," he said. "I would see your hands above your head."
"You intrude upon my privacy!" she cried.
"Soon," he said, "you will have no right to privacy."
"My modesty!" she cried.
"When you are a slave," he said. "you will not be per-mitted modesty." This was true.
"Have mercy, Warrior!" she cried.
"Obey, or be lashed," he said.
Elicia Nevins stood in the tub, and lifted her hands over her head, in an attitude of surrender.
The guest regarded her, casually, openly, at length, with the appraisal of a master.
She shook with fear, seen by a Gorean warrior.
The warrior then went to the side of the tub, crouching near what had been the side to her right. She stepped back in the water, away from him. He brushed back the foam. Carefully he examined the wall of the tub. In moments he had retrieved the tiny dagger which lay there, in its small compartment, concealed behind a tile. He cleaned the poison from the side of the dagger, dried it with a towel, as he had the needle, and then threw it to the side of the room, where lay her robe, which he had earlier discarded. I had not known of the existence of either the compartment or the small, poisoned weapon which it concealed.
Elicia stood in the water, on the far side of the large, sunken tub, her hands lifted.
"Free me!" she said. "I will pay you much."
He regarded her.
"I will give you enough to buy ten slave girls in my stead!" she said.
"But they would not be Elicia Nevins," he said.
She shook her head, haughtily. She still wore the colorful towel about her head.
"Would you care to examine the bill of enslavement?" he asked.
"If I may," she said.
"Step forth," he said, "keeping your hands lifted." She did so, and went to stand near the paper on the floor, her hands lifted.
"You will make a lovely slave," he said. Then he said. "You may lower your hands, and kneel." The woman always examines the papers of enslavement on her knees. "Slave Girl," said the man, speaking to me, "remove the towel from about her head and permit her to dry her hands upon it."
"Yes, Master," I said.
I removed it carefully, lest it contain a needle or other device of which I might be unaware. The lovely cascade of dark hair which was Elicia's fell down her back. "Yes," said the man, "a lovely slave." Elicia dried her hands and, miserably, broke the ribbon and seal and examined the paper.
"You are literate?" inquired the man.
"Yes," she said, acidly.
"Do you understand the document?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "It is an order of enslavement"
"You understand further, of course," said he, "that under Gorean merchant law, which is the only law commonly acknowledged binding between cities, that you stand under separate permissions of enslavement. First, were you of Ar, it would be my right, could I be successful, to make of you a slave, for we share no Home Stone. Secondly, though you speak of yourself as the Lady Elicia of Ar, of Six Towers, you are, in actuality, Miss Elicia Nevins of the planet Earth. You are an Earth girl and thus stand within a general permission of enslavement, fair beauty quarry to any Gorean male whatsoever."
Earth girls had no Home Stones. No legalities, thus, were contravened in capturing them and making of them abject slave girls.
"The first to capture you owns you," he said. "Prepare to be leashed as a slave." He unlooped the long leash at his belt, with its slip ring and snap lock.
"Wait," she said, extending her hand.
"Yes?" he said.
"Beware of leashing me in this city," she said. "I am truly of Ar!"
"Describe to me," said he, "the Home Stone of Ar."
She looked down, confused. She could not do so.
Young men and women of the city, when coming of age, participate in a ceremony which involves the swearing of oaths, and the sharing of bread, fire and salt. In this ceremony the Home Stone of the city is held by each young person and kissed. Only then are the laurel wreath and the mantle of citizenship conferred. This is a moment no young person of Ar forgets. The youth of Earth have no Home Stone. Citizenship, interestingly, in most Gorean cities is conferred only upon the coming of age, and only after certain examinations are passed. Further, the youth of Gor, in most cities, must be vouched for by citizens of the city, not related in blood to him, and be questioned before a committee of citizens, intent upon determining his worthiness or lack thereof to take the Home Stone of the city as his own. Citi
zenship in most Gorean communities is not something accrued in virtue of the accident of birth but earned by virtue of intent and application. The sharing of a Home Stone is no light thing in a Gorean city.
"You claim to be of Ar," said he. "Yet you cannot describe her Home Stone. Explain to me then in precise detail the ceremony of citizenship, or, perhaps, the performances enacted upon the Planting Feast."
"I cannot," she stammered.
"Shall I have you taken before the magistrates of Ar," he inquired, "to substantiate your claim of citizenship?"
"No," she mid, "no!" She looked at him, terrified. To claim a Home Stone as one's own when it is not is a serious offense among Goreans. Elicia Nevins shuddered. She had no wish to be impaled upon the walls of Ar.
"Mercy, Warrior!" she begged.
"Are you of Ar?" he asked.
"No," she said, "I am not of Ar."
"Read further in the bill of enslavement," said he.
Her hands shaking, she read further.
"Sex?" he asked.
"Female," she read.
"Origin?" he asked.
"The planet Earth," she read.
"Name?"
"Elicia Nevins," she read. The document designated her by her own name. She trembled. The document shook in her hand.
"Is that your name?" he asked.
She looked at me, and then she looked again at the war-nor. "Yes," she said, "it is my name."
"You are Elicia Nevins?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, "I am Elicia Nevins."
"Fate?' he asked.
"Slavery," she read. She handed him the document with trembling hands.
"Prepare to be leashed," he said.
He looked aside, casually, as he returned the bill of enslavement to his tunic. In this moment Elicia, springing to her feet, ran to the side of the room and picked up the small dagger. I cried out. She whirled, holding the dagger. He closed his tunic, the bill of enslavement concealed within it. He looked at her, unmoved.
I do not think Elicia realized at this time that he had already begun her training.
"Get out!" she cried. "I have a knife! I will kill you! Get out!"
"You have finished your bath," he said, "and are fresh and ready. Adorn yourself now with cosmetics and scents."
"Get out!" she screamed.
"You seem slow to obey," he remarked.
She looked wildly about her, toward the open door leading from the chamber of her bath and couch.
"There is no escape," he said. "The outer door is secured with a small chain."
She fled through the door and ran to the outer door. We followed her, watching. We were then in the room containing the curule chair, the room in which she had first interviewed me, her new slave girl.
She pulled at the chain on the door, looped in rings, holding the bolt in place, and cut at the door with the knife, hysterically. Then she turned again, wildly, gasping, her hair about her face, viewing us. She fled then again into the chamber she had so recently vacated, and shut the door, throwing its bolts in place.
The warrior rose from the curule chair, in which he had taken his place, and went to the door. I stood back, startled. He kicked it twice, splintering it back, until it hung wildly open, on one hinge. The side of the door and the door frame had been splintered loose. With one foot he then brushed the door back. Within the room, miserable, brandishing her knife, stood Elicia.
"Stay away!" she screamed.
He entered the room, and faced her. I, too, slipped into the room, remaining much behind him.
"You have not yet complied with my command to adorn yourself with cosmetics and scents," he observed. "Are you disobeying?"
"Get out!" she screamed.
"Apparently you require discipline," he said.
"Get out!" she screamed. "Get out!"
He approached her swiftly. She struck down at him, and he took her wrist and, turning her body, suddenly, savagely, thrust her wrist behind her and forced it up high against her back. She screamed with pain. She was high on her toes. His left hand was on her left arm, holding her; his right hand held her right wrist, small, high behind her back. The knife clattered harmlessly on the tiles. With his right foot, he swept it to one side. He held her still for a moment. Her head was back. Her eyes were shut. Her teeth were clenched. Then, with his left foot, he kicked her feet from beneath her and she knelt at his feet, head down, her arm twisted high behind her, the wrist now bent, held between two of his fingers. She knelt near the bath. "You require discipline," he said.
"Please," she wept.
He released her wrist and arm, and taking her by the hair, thrust her on her stomach on the tiles, at the edge of the bath, her head over the water.
"I will buy my freedom!" she cried. "Let me pay you!"
He thrust her head under the water, under the foams of beauty. After a time he pulled her up, sputtering.
"I do not want to be a slave," she gasped, water running from her head.
Again he submerged her head, holding it under the water. After a time, a longer time, he again pulled her head up, freeing it of the water. She gasped. She spit water. She coughed. Water streamed from her head. Her eyes were blinded by water and foam.
"I do not want to be a slave!" she cried. "I do not want to be a slave!"
Again he thrust her head beneath the water. I feared he might drown her.
Again he pulled her head, by the hair, from the water. "I will obey, Master," she gasped.
He kept her on her stomach by the bath and slipped the leather loop of the leash over her head. Quickly his large, efficient hands shortened the loop, sliding the slip ring to a snug fit, then securing it in place, preventing its backward movement, with the snap lock. The leash could then tighten, functioning as a locked choke leash, but could not loosen.
Elicia Nevins turned to her side, unbelievingly. She touched the leather. She had been leashed. She looked up at the warrior. "Master?" she asked.
"Soon," he said.
"Whose leash do I wear?" she asked.
"That of Bosk of Port Kar," he said.
"Not he!" she cried. I gathered she had heard of her en-emy.
"He," said Bosk of Port Kar.
She trembled, leashed. I did not think hers would be an easy slavery. I did not envy her. The name of Bosk of Port Kar was dreaded among women on Gor.
He pulled her to her knees by the leash. She looked up at him.
He gestured to me. "Where is the key to her collar?" he asked.
"In the yellow drawer, in the vanity," she said, hastily, "beneath silk."
"Fetch it," said Bosk of Port Kar to me.
I fled to the drawer and found the key. I did not daily to obey. He had spoken to me in the voice of the Gorean master.
He indicated that I should press the key into the hands of Elicia and kneel with my back to her. I did so. "Remove the collar," said he to Elicia. Fumbling, she opened my collar and pulled it away, putting it and the key on the tiles. "Say, `I no longer own you'," commanded the warrior. "I no longer own you," whispered Elicia, to me, frightened. I sprang to my feet, and turned to face her. She shrank back, leashed. My fists were clenched. She looked up at me. It was sweet to me to see her on her knees, leashed. "Kneel," said Bosk of Port Kar to me. "Yes, Master," I said. I was still a slave. Elicia and I knelt near to one another.
He stood near Elicia, and looked down upon her. Her lip trembled. "You are an agent of Kurii," he said, "and are a valuable as well as beautiful catch."
"Will I be taken to Port Kar to be interrogated?" she asked.
"Yes," he said.
"I will be cooperative," she said. "I will speak all I know." She had no desire to be put under the tortures of Port Kar.
"Of course," he said.
He glanced outside the long, high window in her compartments, out upon the towers of Ar. It was still bright. The blue sky was intense among and over the lofty towers of the city.
"It is early afternoon," she said. "It will be
difficult to take me from the city by day." That was true. Tarnsmen, periodic and alight, patrolled the city. "Doubtless," she said, "you are awaiting the fall of darkness."
"That is true," said he, "Prisoner."
She looked up at him, his leather on her throat.
John Norman - Gor 11 Page 54
