Mercenaries of Gor (42 page)

"The relationship," he told her, "is that of slave to master."

"No!" she cried.

"Strip," he said.

"Do so, immediately," I said to Boabissia, sternly.

Trembling she thrust down her dress over her hips, and stood then within it, it down about her ankles.

"Your sandals, too," I said, "quickly!"

Frightened she slipped from them, too. When a Gorean orders a woman to strip he means now, and completely, leaving not so much as a thread upon her body. She stood there, confused, trembling and terrified. Her clothing was about her feet. It was as though she stood in a tiny pond of cloth.

"What is going on?" asked Hurtha.

"Do not interfere," I said. "It is as I feared."

"Here," said the fellow. He indicated the book and the (pg. 300) disk which had been within it, and Boabissia's disk. I went to the table. I looked at the disk which had been taken from the book. There was a number on it, but the "Tau" on it was identical to what on Boabissia's disk. Keeping the place where lay the apparently pertinent entry I looked at the cover of the book. On it was a year number, one dating back twenty-two years, and two sets of numbers, separated by a span sign. I examined Boabissia's disk. The number on it fell between the two numbers on the book's cover. I then turned to the page to which the fellow had had the book opened earlier.

"See?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. There, at the head of one of the entries, identifying it, and correlated with it, was the number which had been on Boabissia's disk.

"The caravan in whose wreckage you were found," said the fellow to Boabissia, "was a slave caravan."

Boabissia looked at him, regarding him with horror. She then looked at Hurtha.

"When you were found I was only a small boy," said Hurtha. "I did not know what sort of caravan it was. I do not think any of the Alars did. Apparently when found it was in much ruin."

"It was not traveling publicly as a slave caravan," said the man. "It was not, for example, flying its blue and yellow silk. In this manner it had been thought that we might keep secret its cargo, hundreds of beautiful females, a certain lure to the lust and greed of raiders. Our strategem, however, it seems, was ineffectual.

Hurtha nodded.

"Was much left when the Alars came upon it?" he asked.

"No," said Hurtha. "I do not think so."

"I am not surprised," said the fellow. "The women, of course, would have been stolen. Doubtless they entertained their captors well, before being sold in a hundred markets."

"I was only an infant," whispered Boabissia.

"That may be why you were left behind," said the man.

"I could have starved, or perished of exposure, or have been eaten by animals," she said.

(pg. 301) "Perhaps they did not find you," he said. "Perhaps, on the other hand, it was not of concern to them."

"Not of concern to them?" she asked, in horror.

"Of course not," he said. "Do not forget you were only then, as you are now, a slave."

She shuddered, her eyes wide with horror.

"Do not cover your breasts," he said. "Keep your arms at your sides."

She sobbed.

"It was my caravan," said the fellow. "I lost much on it. It took me five years to recover my losses."

"Your caravan?" whispered Boabissia. "What is your business?"

"I am a merchant of sorts," he said. "I deal in slaves, wholesale and retail, mostly female slaves.

"A lovely form of merchandise," I said.

"Yes," he said.

"But I was only an infant," whispered Boabissia.

"You were sold to my house in your infancy," he said.

"It is in the entry," I informed Boabissia. "Too, your slave number is in his house was the number on your disk."

"I was sold to you in my infancy?" said Boabissia.

"For three tarsk bits," he said.

"So little?" she said.

"You were an infant," he said.

"It is very little," she whispered.

"Would you rather have been exposed in the Voltai," he asked, "a wooden skewer through your heels?"

She shook her head, frightened.

"But why would I have been sold?" she asked.

"You were a female," he said. "Why not?"

The selling of infant daughters is not that unusual in large cities. Some women do it regularly. They make a practice of it, much as they might sell their hair to hair merchants or to the weavers of catapult ropes. Some women, it is rumored, hope for daughters, that they may sell to the slave trade. These women in effect, breed for slaves. Too, there is a common Gorean belief that females are natural slaves, a belief for which there is much evidence, incidentally, and in (pg. 302) the light of this belief some families would rather sell a daughter than raise her. Too, of course, daughters, unlike sons, are seldom economic assets to the family. Indeed they cannot even pass on the gens name. They can retain it in companionship, if they wish, if suitable contractual arrangements are secured, but they cannot pass it on. The survival of the name and the continuance of the patrilineal line are important to many Goreans.

"Stand straight," he said to Boabissia.

Boabissia, frightened, straightened her body.

Hurtha made a noise of approval, pleased at seeing Boabissia under male command. I, too, I must admit, was pleased to see this, to see Boabissia obeying. How marvelous and rewarding it is to control a female, having total power over her.

"Straighter," he said. "Suck in your gut, put your shoulders back."

She complied.

"If it is of interest to you," he said, "I did not simply buy you. Although your mother was a free woman I had her strip, and then put her through slave paces. I would attempt to assess the possibilities of the daughter by seeing the mother, by seeing her naked and performing, attempting desperately to please. When she was reluctant, as a free woman, I used the whip on her. Thus I obtained a better idea of what I might be buying."

"Tell me about my mother, please," she said.

"She was a comely wench, as I determined, when I saw her naked," he said. "She was curvaceous, and, when she realized I would not compromise with her, moved quite well. She herself, I am sure, under a suitable master, would have made excellent collar meat. She would also make, it seemed to me, an excellent breeder of slaves."

"Was she of Ar?" asked Boabissia.

"Yes," he said. "But she was of low-caste origins, of course."

"Oh," said Boabissia.

"But she had beauty beyond her caste," he said. "Indeed, I would be surprised if she had not, sooner or later, been (pg. 303) caught and put in a collar. She may even now, somewhere, be serving a master."

He then looked upon Boabissia.

"I was only going to offer two tarsk bits for you originally," he said, "a standard price for a female infant, but after I had seen your mother, seen her fully, and performing, and under the lash, you understand, and considered how you might have something of her beauty, I raised my offer to three."

Boabissia nodded, tears in her eyes.

"Lift your head," he said.

"Excellent," he said. "Had I realized how well you would turn out, I would have offered not three, but five, or even seven, tarsk bits for you."

"Am I more beautiful than my mother?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, "and, clearly, even more of a slave."

She sobbed.

He turned to face Hurtha and myself. "Gentlemen," he said, "I must thank you for returning this girl to me."

"It was not really our intention to do so," I said. "She is surely herself primarily responsible. She saw this place, and, eager to inquire as to her antecedents and connections, entered of her own accord."

He turned to Boabissia. "And you have now satisfied your curiosity, haven't you, my dear?" he asked. "You have now learned what you wished to learn. You have now discovered your antecedents and connections, so to speak, and your exact place, or, perhaps better put, your exact lack of a place, in civil and social relationships."

"Yes," she whispered.

"But she has been with you, as I understand it," he said, turning to us, "and surely it is in your company that she came to Ar."

"Yes," I said.

"I thought perhaps it had been a joke on your part, something to amuse you, that you had let her enter here alone, first, before your arrival."

"No," I said.

"Nonetheless," he said, "surely some gratuity is in order, for abetting her return."

(pg. 304) "None is necessary," I said.

We looked at her.

She was still maintaining a position of slave beauty.

"What do you think she will bring?" I asked.

"The market is depressed," he said. "Much of it has to do with the rumored affairs at Torcadino, the purported advances of Cosians, the crowding in Ar, the influx of refugees. But I would think, even so, she might bring two silver tarsks."

"A fine price for a girl," I said.

"I think she will bring that, even in the current markets," he said.

"I had not realized Boabissia was so valuable," said Hurtha.

Boabissia glanced at Hurtha, startled.

It is not unusual, of course, for a fellow to take a woman lightly, or for granted, until he learns of her interest to others, for example, what they are willing to pay for her.

Boabissia looked away from Hurtha then, swiftly, not daring to meet his eyes. She reddened in a wave of heat and helplessness from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes.

Similarly, it is not unusual for a fellow not to think of a given woman in a sexual manner, or as an object of extreme desire, but when he sees her stripped, and as a slave, that changes instantly and dramatically.

"Please," she begged.

"Be silent," I said.

She was beautiful, and her life had changed. She must learn to endure slave scrutiny. Later she would perhaps learn to revel in it, brazenly.

"I had thought," said the fellow, viewing her, "that the caravan had been a total loss. I see now that I was mistaken.

She stood before us, viewed.

"I lost a mere infant," he said. "I am returned a beautiful slave."

She choked back a sob.

"Some gratuity, or reward, is surely in order," he said.

"None is necessary." I said.

"But consider the savings I have effected on feed alone," he said.

(pg. 305) "Come now," I said. "Table scraps and slave gruel are not that expensive."

"I insist," he said.

"As you will," I said.

Boabissia regarded me with horror.

"You are more than generous," I said.

"Indeed," said Hurtha, approvingly. In my palm lay a silver tarsk. I put it in my pouch. Boabissia moaned.

He then reached to the small bell on his desk, and shook it, twice.

"I assume," I said, "in the light of the special circumstances of her case, she is not to be treated as a runaway slave."

"No," he said. "Or, certainly not at present, at least." Then he looked at the girl. "You do understand, however, do you not, my dear, the typical penalties for a runaway slave?"

She nodded, numbly.

"Excellent," he said.

"If I may be so bold," I said, "I would advocate a certain modest latitude, at least for a day or two, in her initial training. You must understand that she has, for many years, regarded herself as a free woman."

"Interesting," he said.

"Too," I said, "not only has she regarded herself as a free woman, but she has behaved as one, and has affected the airs of one."

"That is very serious, my dear," said the man.

At that moment a lithe, sinewy fellow entered, doubtless in response to the sound of the bell a few moments earlier. He whose office it was gestured toward Boabissia. Her hands were drawn behind her, and braceleted behind her back.

"But she did not understand she was not free, really," I said.

Boabissia pulled against the bracelets, weakly.

"She came here unveiled," said the man.

"True," I said. "But the Alar women do not veil themselves."

"She thought she was an Alar?" asked the man.

(pg. 306) "She was accustomed to thinking of herself in that way," I said.

"But she should have known from her body she was not of the Alars," he said. "She is not a tall, strapping woman. Look at her. She is short, and luscious, and cuddly, and exquisitely feminine. That is the body of a woman of the cities or towns, and, if I may note the fact, it is a typical slave's body."

"True," I said.

"And what was her attitude toward female slaves?" he asked.

"She held herself immeasurably superior to them," I said. "She despised them. She hated them, and held them in great contempt."