Authors: John Norman
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Adventure
“Of course, Sir, she said, unpleasantly.
Her attitude amused me. Although she had, doubtless, some theoretical
understanding that she was subject to discipline, she was not yet fully aware,
as is a female slave, of how such realities might affect her situation. Too, she
had not (pg.85) even been informed that she was, in truth, subject to guest use.
“Perhaps you would like to fetch a slave whip?” I asked.
“No, Sir,” she said, quickly. “Please, no, Sir.” I gathered then she had at
least seen slave girls whipped, or after they had been whipped. She would have
some idea of what the whip could do to a woman. it is an excellent correctional
device for female behavior.
“No,” I said.
“No?” she said.
“No,” I said, “I do not want anything else, just now, here.”
“Would you truly have whipped me?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Sir’s waitress requests permission to withdraw,” she said.
“It is granted,” I said.
She then performed obeisance.
“No,” I said, “do not rise. Withdraw on all fours.”
“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” she said.
“You may leave,” I informed her.
She then turned about and began to make her way toward the kitchen. For an
instant I saw her lift herself, as though inadvertently, and then, with a sob,
she hurried on.
I rose to my feet, the small, hinged tablet on my hand. The bill was inscribed
on the waxed surface within. It totaled five copper tarsks. When I added that to
my current bill, it would come to nineteen copper tarsks. I must remember to
pick up the blankets with the ostrakon at the keeper’s desk.
I looked over at the bearded fellow, the fellow of the company of Artemidorus of
Cos. The slave had now left his table, to fetch his meal. I wondered what might
be in the rectangular pouch he carried, that which he seemed concerned to keep
with him at all times. He had taken it with him even into the baths. He had a
tarn, I recalled.
I then made my way to the keeper’s desk. The keeper was not up now, but an
attendant was there. He checked the tablet and added the five tarsks to my bill.
He retained the tablet. It would be smoothed, thus erasing it, and would
probably then be hung with others, on nails, in the kitchen, ready to be used
(pg.86) again. I picked up my ostrakon, on which was inscribed the number of my
space, and the two blankets. I had paid the blanket rental earlier. Before I
left the keeper’s desk, I also had the attendant add a tarsk bit to my bill.
6
Some Things which Occurred One Night at the Crooked Tarn
(page 87) There were one hundred sleeping place, or positions, on the third
level in the south wing, although no space was numbered “100.” What counted for
the hundredth space, so to speak, was a “zero” space in the front, left-hand
corner, as one entered the level. In the light of a few dim tharlarion-oil lamps
one could see the large numbers posted high on the wall, to the left and the
back. The rows, from the front moving back, were numbered zero through 9; the
columns, from left to right, were similarly numbered. One determines the spaces
then, rather as on a cipher chart, by the intersection of numbers. The farthest
space to the left and front, as one entered, then was space “zero” and the
farthest space to the back and the right was ‘99”. As the first line in Gorean
writing moves from the left to the right, according to conventions the numbers
to the left would be first numbers designating the space. For example, the
intersection of row 7 with column 3 would be space 73, not space 37. Similarly
the space farthest to the back on the left, as one enters, would be space 90,
the intersection of row 9 with column 0, and the space farthest to the right, in
the front, as one enters, was 9, the intersection of row 0 with column 9. This
arrangement makes it possible, at a glance, to see exactly where one’s space
lies. My space, as I discovered, was not as bad as the keeper had suggested. It
was not in a corner, but it was, at least, at a wall. Had there been walkways
bordering the (pg.88) sleeping area it would not have been bad at all.
Unfortunately there were no walkways.
One fellow cried out, suddenly, with pain. “Sorry, Sir,” I said. I inadvertently
struck another with my pack. The light was not good.
I decided I had better stay rather where I was for a moment or so, to let my
eyes better adjust to the darkness. I did however, take the precaution of moving
out of the reach of the fellow I had struck with my pack. He could not reach me
now, without risking stumbling across a couple of other fellows, big ones, too.
I did not think walkways would be a bad idea. To be sure, I suppose, then, one
could get fewer spaces of the same size into the area. The keeper was probably
balancing out the advantages of reasonably sized sleeping spaces, a yard or so
wide, in keeping with his concept of the first-class inn, for the area, with the
largest number of them he could put in a given area. Keepers, merchants, and
such, have problems of that sort. The second and third levels, incidentally,
were reached by narrow stairs, rather than ladders, as in some inns. Doubtless
that convenience could considerably strengthen the keeper’s case that he was
maintaining a first-class establishment, at least for the area. I did not know.
Perhaps he was. Certainly he charged enough. Too, my friend, the bearded fellow
of the company of Artemidorus, whom I had not had to kill, had elected to stay
here, and he looked like the sort who would certainly avail himself of the
finest accommodations in an area.
There was some squirming to my left, and, as my eyes grew more accustomed to the
light, I saw a couple entwined. At first I supposed they might be companions,
sharing a space. The female seemed to be making small angry noises, then
frightened noises. A large piece of cloth, probably her veil, had been thrust
into her mouth and tied there. As she moved it seemed her hands must be bound
behind her back. Her slippers were off, near her feet. Her robes had been thrust
up about her waist. She looked wildly at me, the cloth stuffed in her mouth,
tied there. She had probably been surprised in her sleep, and rendered helpless.
When he finished with her he would probably carry her from the floor, either to
his wagon and, if interested in her, leave with her, or leave her tied below
somewhere, perhaps to the railing at (pg.89) the stairs, or perhaps in the
stable, where she would attract little attention until morning, after his
presumed departure.
I thought that perhaps the inn should provide separate spaces for women, not
just separate marked-out spaces, but say, a separate room, or area. She half
reared up, making tiny noises. He had gagged her well. Then he pressed her back
to the boards. I blamed the keeper as much as anything, three copper tarsks for
a girl, for a quarter of an Ahn, was outrageous. It was no wonder that some
fellow, under the circumstances, might be forced to make do as he could, even
having recourse eventually, if he was desperate enough, to a free woman. I trod
a bit further ahead. It was less dangerous now, as I could see better. Too, the
tiny tharlarion-oil lamps, here and there, at the walls, were helpful.
“Do not approach me, sleen!” hissed a woman. Her arm was back. She crouched in
the center of one of the spaces. Her hand, held back, held a small dagger, of
the sort which some women think affords them protection.
“Forgive me, Lady,” I whispered, “I am trying to reach my space.”
She brandished the weapon.
“I mean you no harm,” I said. I do not think it is a good idea for women to
carry such weapons, incidentally. Their pretentiousness annoys some men. indeed,
some men will kill a woman with such a weapon rather than take the moment or so
necessary to disarm her and make her helpless.
“Do not approach me!” she hissed. “Oh!” she said. “Stop! You’re hurting me!”
The dagger fell to the floor. My hand was still on her wrist.
“I shall scream,” she whispered, tensely. “oh!”
“It will be difficult to scream, held as you are,” I said. My left hand was
behind the back of her neck, pressed tightly against it, and my right hand,
moved from her wrist, now covered her veiled mouth, tightly, pressing back.
She looked at me, angrily, over the veil. She squirmed. She made tiny noises.
Her small hands were futile, trying to pull my hand from her mouth.
“I mean you no harm,” I said. “I am only trying to get to my place.”
She nodded, a tiny, difficult movement.
(pg.90) “Will you scream, if I release you?” I asked.
She looked at me, and then shook her head, as she could, quickly, earnestly,
negatively. She was lying, of course. But this would give me the opportunity to
get her veil into her mouth.
I released her mouth and she pulled back and opened her mouth widely, to scream.
I bunched and thrust veil into her mouth. She looked at me, wildly, half
gagging, my fingers and cloth in her mouth. Little by little, then, with my
fingers, patiently, my thumb holding my present accomplishments in place, and
pushing them further back, to make room for more folds, I worked more of the
veil into her mouth. Finally I pulled out the pins at the side, and completed
the work. Some veils are held not with pins but with hooks and cords, passing
about the back of the head. Others are a part of the hood itself. With the hood
cords, which can fasten the hood more or less closely about the neck, like a
cloak. I fastened the veil in place. She then looked at me, well silenced.
No longer had she the dignity of the veil.
She did not try to dislodge the silencing device I had placed in her mouth but
she lifted her hands, shamed, before her face, to conceal her countenance from
me.
I noted how her hands were held before her face.
I pulled her hands down, away from her face. I held them, she helpless to
resist, and then, for a time, not hurrying, considered her lips and mouth. They
were indeed excellent. She turned her head to the side.
I turned her about and put her on her stomach. I then removed her stockings. Her
slippers, removed for the night, were to one side. With one stocking I bound her
hands together, behind her back, leaving two ends loose. I then crossed and
bound her ankles with the other stocking, and, as she winced, pulled her legs up
behind her. I looped one of the two loose ends from the stocking securing her
wrists twice about her ankle tie and then tied it to the other loose end. This
fastened her in a slave bow. I pulled her hood down about her face. In this way
her facial modesty was protected. Her lips and mouth, then, were not exposed to
the gaze of men, as though they might be those of a slave. I then found he
dagger and, carefully, with regard to her modesty, cut and divided her garments,
removing fastening and hooks (pg.91) from them. This left her fully and modestly
concealed, albeit with only strips and pieces of clothing, the devices for
arranging and closing which had been removed. I did not think she would find
that her dignity would be compromised unless, of course, foolishly, she chose to
move. I then picked up her small dagger, and my pack, and the blankets, and
again made my way toward my space. When I reached it, I put down the pack and
blankets. I also put the small dagger under my foot, and pulling up on the
handle, broke the blade away. The two parts I cast away, back by the wall. No
longer would it endanger her life.
I looked about. There were some empty spaces on the floor, for example, space
98, to my left, as I would face the front of the room, but, on the whole, the
level was very crowded. I would have liked the comparative privacy of space 99,
in the corner, but it was occupied. I suspected that the empty spaces, or most
of them, had been vacated by fellows who had left early. Some folks leave almost
in the middle of the night, and then stop at another inn, in the early
afternoon. That way they can usually count on obtaining excellent
accommodations. Most inns want you out by noon, the tenth Ahn.
I glanced back to the space occupied by the free woman whom I had not found
pleasing, she on whose mouth I had seen fit to impose closure, she whom I had
left in precarious concealments and slave trussing. She was motionless. I
doubted, however, that she was asleep. She would not wish to attract attention
to her present straits. In the morning, with folks bustling about, she would
probably be all right. Now, however, she might be plucked as easily as a larma,
one overhanging a public path. I had scarcely arranged my blankets and put the
pack down for a pillow when I saw an attendant enter the room, carrying a
stripped female, her hands tied behind her, over his shoulder, her head to the
rear, in slave position. I gestured to him, and, exciting my envy somewhat, he
picked his way expertly among the sprawled, slumbering bodies to my space. “I
shall return in an Ahn,” he said. He then sat his burden beside me.
“You!” said the Lady Temione.
“Shhh,” I cautioned her. “People are trying to sleep.”