Authors: John Norman
She pulled a little at the slave cord, wrapped so securely about her small wrists and slender ankles.
"How much I am yours!” she said. “How much you master me!"
"Do you object?” asked Cabot.
"No,” she said, “I am a slave. I want to be well mastered! I need to be well mastered! I beg to be well mastered! I would be miserable were I not well mastered!"
"Any man can master you,” said Cabot.
"Yes, Master,” she said. “—
Now
."
Cabot's eyes roved her, as the eyes of masters can rove slaves.
She dared not meet his eyes.
"The sand,” she said, “my hair, my body."
"You are filthy,” said Cabot.
"Perhaps I will be permitted later to make myself more presentable to my master,” she said.
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"I want to be presentable,” she said.
"You had better be more than presentable,” said Cabot.
"Of course,” she said. “I am a slave."
Grendel stirred the fire.
"As a slave,” she said, “I wish to go far beyond being merely presentable. As a slave I want my master to find me not only presentable, not only clean and well-groomed, and such, but appealing."
"'Appealing'?” asked Cabot.
"Attractive,” she said.
"Attractive slaves are, of course, pleasing to the master,” said Cabot.
"And we wish to be attractive to our masters,” she said. “The life of a slave who is attractive to her master is likely to be much more pleasant than that of one who is not attractive to the master."
"Doubtless,” said Cabot. “But if I am not mistaken you would like to be attractive to men, in general."
"Certainly, Master,” she said, “for we are women. Even when I thought I despised and hated men, I still wanted keenly to be attractive to them."
"Do you understand the meaning of that?” asked Cabot.
"I do not think I understood it then, at least fully, at least in full consciousness,” she said, “but now its meaning is quite clear. Its meaning is that we are women, and exist to be desired and sought, and that we wish, and wish desperately, despite what we might claim, to be desired and sought, and that we exist to be beautiful, and loving, for men, and that we exist to please and serve men, that we are the complementary sex to theirs, and each sex is to be a perfection to the other, and take its meaning from the other, and only as utterly different are the sexes united in the wondrous and precious perfection of wholeness, and this is what brings us to the feet of men, hopeful and submissive, to be accepted, if only we fully understood our meaning, and ourselves, as their slaves."
"And so your beauty is so important to you,” said Cabot, “and, on Gor, it is a beauty that does not fade."
"So I have been given to understand, Master,” she said.
"Have no fear,” said Cabot, “I will eventually give you an opportunity to clean yourself, to tend your hair, as you can, to wash and press your tunic with warm stones, such things."
"Thank you, Master,” she said.
"Females are such vain creatures,” said Cabot.
"Would you have us otherwise?"
"No,” said Cabot, “it makes it easier to control you."
"We are yours, Master,” she said.
"In a thousand ways,” said Cabot.
"Yes, Master,” she said. “Master,” she said.
"Yes?” said Cabot.
"We are attractive, are we not, Master?” she asked.
"Yes,” said Cabot, “otherwise you would not be worth buying and selling."
"Yes, Master,” she said.
Cabot, with his thumb, wiped some of the sand from her collar, better revealing its legend.
There were tears in her eyes.
"My master's name is on my collar,” she said.
"Of course,” said Cabot. “That is commonly done. The slave is goods. Thus it is important to know to whom she belongs."
"We belong to our masters,” she said.
"Of course,” said Cabot.
"I wonder if men can understand what it is for a woman to belong to a man,” she said.
"It is not hard to understand,” he said. “It is a simple matter of legalities, as owning a belt or saddle, or a kaiila or tarsk."
"To know that she is owned by him,
truly owned by him
,” she said.
"It is a legal matter,” he said.
"Oh, yes,” she said, “it is a matter of perfect legalities, and we are well aware of that, perfectly aware of that, that we are only goods and properties, no more, but what of our feelings, our emotions, our understandings of this?"
"The feelings of a slave are of no interest, and of no importance,” he said.
"Yes, Master,” she said, softly.
"It is expected that the slave will be dutiful, and serve well,” he said.
"Yes, Master,” she whispered.
Cabot looked past Grendel, and the small fire, toward the opening of the small cave. “The weather has changed,” he said.
"Yes, it is warm,” she said, gratefully.
"Lord Grendel speculates that Agamemnon trusts that cold is no longer necessary to his plans, and thus, one supposes, that the temperature of the world may be returned to an equable level, one suitable for this season of the cylinder year."
"Agamemnon?"
"The cold, the storm,” said Cabot, “may have been manufactured."
"It is highly likely,” said Grendel. “In any event, it is surely not a natural phenomenon, of the sort with which you might be familiar. It is within the cylinder. Too, there was, for example, no lightning, and no thunder."
"No!” she said.
Grendel returned to tending and turning the meat, at the small fire.
"If Agamemnon wished to kill us,” said Cabot, “he could have done so on the lake, with the aquatic machine."
"Yes,” said Grendel, “but perhaps not with consequences to his liking."
"I do not understand,” said Cabot.
"He appeared to save us, did he not?” asked Grendel.
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"Or one of us?"
"One of us?” asked Cabot.
"I suspect the Lady Bina is involved in this,” said Grendel.
"She would have importuned Agamemnon to have us saved upon the lake?"
"Or one of us,” said Grendel.
"You then, her champion,” said Cabot.
"No,” said Grendel, looking down, stirring the fire.
"I?” asked Cabot.
"I think so,” said Grendel.
"But surely Agamemnon wants us both dead,” said Cabot.
"Yes, and so the storm,” said Grendel. “It is speculation on my part that Lady Bina intervened with Agamemnon to protect you on the lake. In a sense, he did so, and his efforts may have been witnessed in such a way, recorded in such a way, within the machine, as to convince her of his efforts on your behalf."
"Why on my behalf?” asked Cabot.
"Lady Bina may want you,” said Grendel. “Perhaps she wants you for a pet or a reward of some sort."
"Absurd,” said Cabot.
"Did you refuse her?"
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"This may have displeased her,” said Grendel.
"I see,” said Cabot.
"And the storm then would seem something in which Agamemnon had no hand, and which could not have been predicted, or defended against."
"But it could have been!” said Cabot.
"Yes,” said Grendel, “but did you, at first, understand the control?"
"No,” said Cabot.
"And to a lesser extent yet would have the Lady Bina,” said Grendel.
"But what of you, and Lita?” asked Cabot.
"I could be disposed of later, at her convenience,” said Grendel, “and she may have thought it amusing to own your Lita, who, when free, I understand, was something of a rival to her."
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"Doubtless she would be pleased to have her under her switch, as a terrified, groveling, abject serving slave."
Lita shuddered.
"And thus I suspect we were to be finished in the storm,” he said, “seemingly as the unfortunate consequence of an unforeseen accident, and thus without any compromise whatsoever to future services which the Lady Bina might render to Agamemnon."
"Then Agamemnon believes we are dead?” said Cabot.
"I think so,” said Grendel. “Consider the turn in the weather."
"That gives us something of an advantage, does it not?” asked Cabot.
"Only a small one, if any, I fear,” said Grendel.
"Is the meat ready?” asked Cabot.
"Yes,” said Grendel. He thrust a slab of roasted meat toward Cabot, on a sharpened stick, and he then began, with his paws, juice running between the digits, and his fangs, to feed.
The slave pulled her wrists a little upward, but they could not begin to reach her mouth.
Cabot took her by the hair, and pulled her down to her side, so her mouth was near his thigh.
He then fed for a time, and then, after a bit, he held some meat down by her mouth, only a little out of her reach.
She squirmed to it, and bit at it, desperately, voraciously.
She lifted her mouth, piteously, and whimpered a little, juice running at the side of her face. And Cabot gave her more, which she bit at, eagerly, greedily, gratefully.
"Is this the way a young lady with pretensions to station and position, even to membership in the British aristocracy, dines?” asked Cabot.
She pulled wildly, miserably, helplessly, at her bonds, but was helpless in them. And then she snatched again, and again, desperately, at the meat held out for her.
"You feed like a starving she-sleen,” said Cabot, “or a hungry slave."
She did not respond to him, but seized ever more desperately, and piteously, at the food held out for her.
"Did you save the feathers of the lake bird?” asked Cabot of Lord Grendel.
"Not really,” said Lord Grendel, wiping his jaws with a massive, haired forearm, “but they are about. Why?"
"They might be useful,” said Cabot, “in fletching arrows."
Chapter, the Thirty-Fifth:
LITA RETURNS TO THE CAVE
"Should she not be back by now?” asked Grendel.
Cabot was working with the missile, or arrow, straightener, a short wooden tool, some eighteen inches in length, with a small, round hole cut in one end. The suitable branch, properly trimmed, is seldom straight. One holds the straightener by what is, in effect, its handle, and thrusts the branch through the hole. Then, by twisting and pressing, over a small fire, one hand on the tool, the other on the shaft, thrust through the hole, the wood, now softened, now pliable, is straightened, and becomes a shaft worthy of its fletching and heading.
Cabot looked up, from his work, and put aside the branch and straightener. “I think so,” he said. “I shall look."
"Better I,” said Grendel. “I am Kur."
"Partly so,” said Cabot.
But Grendel had exited the cave, nostrils distended.
Cabot returned to his work.
The small party consisting of Cabot, Lord Grendel, and a slave, whose name was Lita, had been in the vicinity of the cave four days now.
One gathers that ka-la-na wood, common on Gor from her wine trees, would have been preferable for the launching device, or bow, which Cabot had prepared, carved into its gentle arc with a sharp stone, but such are not found in the world. He had selected, one evening, in the dusk, two likely branches from a young Tur tree, a tree which is found on Gor, a reddish tree which, when mature, is lofty and broadly leaved, and had shaped them to his purpose. The string for this launching device, or bow, the string from which the missile, the arrow, is flighted, was easily obtained from remnants of the raft's rope, parted, unraveled, and rewoven, those remnants by means of which Cabot and the slave had been enabled to survive the storm, by means of which he had fastened himself and the slave to one of the raft's logs, after the raft's destruction. On Gor the string for the launching device is commonly encircled, bound and smoothed, being whipped with silk, this reducing fraying and wear, but Cabot, lacking this luxury, had prepared a number of strings, replaceable as needed. With these the device, or bow, might be strung and restrung as desired. The launching device, or bow, is left unstrung when not used, this retaining its resiliency, by avoiding material fatigue. He had fletched those arrows earlier finished with feathers of the lake bird, that apparently, in Cabot's mind, at least, resembling the Vosk Gull, binding the feathering to the shaft with stout threads, these obtained from the hem of his tunic, such threads being coarser, and stronger, than those which might have been obtained from the slave's tunic, for such garments are woven of lighter, softer material. He had hoped to head his missiles with that gray, siliceous rock called flint, or in Gorean, splinter stone, but none is had in the world. This lack, however, was well remedied by Lord Grendel who, several Ahn from the cave, muchly concealing his deformed hands, in a tiny habitat village, had encountered a small smithy, and, with some of Cabot's silver coins, obtained from Peisistratus in consequence of a wager, had arranged with the smith for the manufacture of a large number of alleged pendants, presumably for stringing and resale. Kurii, as is well known, are fond of ornaments, and not unoften string their bodies with them. These alleged pendants were flat and sharply pointed at one end, and, toward the other end, indented, on two sides, and flattened. A small hole was drilled in each of the putative pendants, rather near the flattish end, between the opposing indentations, or notches. In virtue of this hole, you see, the pendants might have been strung on a string or cord, for looping about the neck, or wrists, of their wearers. Each of these putative pendants later, of course, might be fitted into the leading end of a missile, or arrow, held in place on two sides by the slit wood, and lashed firmly in place, by means of the indentations, and a stout cord. Whereas a Kur familiar with Gor, and the common, fearsome weaponry of the Gorean peasant, might have easily recognized these supposed pendants as weapon points, the smith, as far as we know, unfamiliar with such things, did not do so or, at least, pretended not to do so. Lord Grendel, too, we may suppose, paid a good price for his alleged pendants. While in the habitat village he also purchased supplies of various sorts, among them some biscuits and dried fruit, some vessels, some robes, three blankets, an ax, and two knives.