Renegades of Gor (54 page)

fighting. Why did you not do so?

“The wall needed defending,” I has said. “One thing led to another.”

(pg.359) “Ad you not held the wall as long as you did,” had said Aemilianus.

“And had you not further delayed Cos at the gate, and on the walkway, the day

would have been finished long before the arrival of Calliodorus.”

Several men had assented to this.

“It was nothing,” I had said.

Back by the port side of the stairs leading to the helm deck, a few feet from

where Aemilianus sat, knelt Shirley, his beautiful blond slave. No longer was

she so pale and drawn as before. Now she was considerably freshened by rest and

food. Her blond hair which had been closely cropped, if not shaved, early in the

siege of Ar’s Station was now growing out. And, already, with the rest and food,

her beauty gave hints of returning to a voluptuousness that brings high prices

on a slave block, and can drive a master half mad with passion. Too, looking at

her, I realized that Aemilianus, too, must be feeling much better, and much

stronger. She was in chains. Though the girl loves the master with all her heart

and would never dream of fleeing from him, absurd though such a dream might be

on Gor, given the branding, the collaring, the closeness of the society, and

such, she knows that she is upon occasion to be put in chains. In this act is

symbolized his desire of her, that she is worth chaining and keeping. And in

this act is symbolized his power over her. Despite their love, she is still his,

and a slave.

Even the gentlest and kindest of masters has absolute power over the slave. She

is no less owned by him that she would be by the cruelest brute on Gor. Elated

and reassured then is the woman that she is chained, in this finding continuing

evidence of her master’s desire for her, his passion for her, his prizing of

her, his determination to keep her for himself. And for her part, she rejoices

that she is helpless to escape him, that she truly belongs to him, that she is

truly his, legally and otherwise, and that she must, as she intensely desires to

do, continue to live for service and love. It is not merely pleasant to own a

slave, to dress her as you please, if you wish to permit her clothing, to have

her at your bidding, to do with her as you please; it is exalting. The man who

has not owned a slave has no conception of the maximums of sexuality, nor has

the woman who has not been owned.

“How is my old friend Callimachus, commander of the (pg.360) forces of the Vosk

League?” asked Aemilianus of Calliodorus. The body sovereign in the Vosk League,

incidentally, at least as I understand it, is its High Council, which is

composed of representatives from the member towns.

This Calliodorus, I gathered, then, whoever he was, would be the appointee of

that council.

“Hard at work at his desk, attending to numerous administrative duties,” said

Calliodorus.

“Doubtless he will also be certain to be publicly visible in Victoria,” smiled

Aemilianus.

“As would you in his situation,” smiled Calliodorus.

“Doubtless he will be astonished to learn of yesterday’s action at Ar’s Station.

“Doubtless,” agreed Calliodorus. “We may rest assured, of course, that he will

conduct a careful investigation.”

Aemilianus laughed.

The results of this investigation, I gathered, might prove to be inconclusive.

We heard the sound of chain and saw the “first of the two females to be fetched

forth.”

It was she in the improvised hood.

She was led forth, before us, in her small steps, by a hand on her left arm.

Then she was sat on the deck, before Aemilianus.

She sat there, hooded. I do not think she was sure, actually, where she was,

except that she had presumably been conducted further aft, or if anyone were

about.

She sat there for a moment, listening. We were silent.

No longer wore she the leather collar, with its leash. No longer were her hands

thonged behind her.

But she was in sirik.

The metal collar was fastened on her throat. From it a long chain, dangled

downward. To this chain, near her waist, was attached another chain, terminating

at each end with a wrist ring, into which rings her wrists had been placed and

locked. At the end of the chain dangling from the collar, to which the

wrist-ring was attached, was an ankle-ring chain, terminating at each end with

an ankle ring, into which her ankles had been placed and locked. The neck chain

was rather long and if she were to stand some of it would have lain upon the

deck. The device permits of numerous adjustments. As it was (pg.361) now

adjusted, her wrists had some twelve inches of play, her ankles some fourteen

inches of play. The smallness of her steps had been a function of the current

adjustment of her ankle chaining.

She sat on the deck. She felt the ankle rings and the chain between them, and

the neck chain, and then, with each hand, she tried to slip the wrist ring from

the opposite wrist. She could not, of course, begin to do so. She was exploring

the device. Then she put her hands on the neck chain and moved up it, with her

fingers, and pulled it against its staple on the collar. Then she felt the

staple, jerked the chain again against it, and convinced herself that it was

well secured there. Then she felt, wonderingly, the collar itself. It was well

on her, and locked. She seemed puzzled, and frightened.

The device had been only put on her a few moments ago. This was the first time,

I gathered, that she had worn slave chains.

She probably had no idea how beautiful she looked in them.

Although she could now reach her hood and gag, given the length of the neck

chain, which permitted her to lift her chained wrists to her head, she did not,

of course, do so. She would not dare to so much as touch them, let alone remove

them. She was not unfamiliar with Gorean disciplines.

“Kneel,” said Aemilianus, gently.

Swiftly she knelt.

She began to tremble. The chains made small sounds.

I gathered that she did not know before whom she knelt. Also, interestingly,

absurdly, it seemed that she was not altogether sure of her condition and

status, obvious though it must be to anyone who looked upon her.

Aemilianus made a small sign to Calliodorus.

“You may put your head to the deck,” said Calliodorus.

The girl did so, putting her palms to the deck.

“You may raise it,” he said.

She raised her head. She was then kneeling as before, amongst us.

“Free her mouth,” said Calliodorus.

I crouched beside the girl and undid the hood and pushed it up, and fastened it

then as a half hood on her. In this way the effectiveness of the hood as a

blindfold had not been compromised, for even an instant. I then untied the gag

strips from (pg.362) the back of her neck, and pulled away the gag. I then,

carefully, delicately, removed the mass of sopped wadding from her mouth. I put

it on the deck beside her, heavy and sodden, with the rest of the gag. In this

way these things were at hand, and her mouth might then, at our convenience, if

we wished, be restored swiftly to its former condition of helpless closure.

“You are not branded,” observed Calliodorus.

“No! No!” she cried eagerly.

“Do you wish to live?” he inquired.

“Yes!” she said, fervently.

“Are you, or have you ever been, a woman of Ar’s Station?” he asked.

“Yes!” she said.

“How, came it then,” he asked, “that you were in bonds on the piers, leashed and

thonged, hooded and gagged?”

“An escaping prisoner did such things to me,” she said. “Hooded, I was not

recognized. Gagged, I could not make my plight known.”

“Do you know what happened yesterday on the piers?” he asked.

“I have only a very imperfect understanding of what occurred,” she said. “Twice

on the piers I fainted, and was unconscious. I was awakened by the kicks of free

women and conducted helplessly aboard this vessel.”

“What do you think occurred on the piers?” he asked.

“Ships came to the piers,” she said, “and I think that many on the piers,

including myself, were embarked aboard them.”

“Cosian ships?” he said.

“I do not know,” she said, miserably. “There were Cosian ships about.”

“But surely you have learned much since you were brought on board,” he said.

“I was kept with women,” she said, “who were ordered to silence.”

“What do you think was the fate of the women who brought you on board?” he

asked.

“I do not know,” she said.

“Do you think they were with you last night, similarly ordered to silence?”

(pg.363) “I do not know,” she said.

“What have you heard on the ship?” he asked.

“Little,” she said. “I have heard men conducting the business of the ship.”

“Have you perhaps formed some conjectures as to the origins of these men?”

“Yes,” she said.

“On what basis?” he asked.

“On their speech,” she said.

“Their speech?” he asked.

“Their accents,” she said.

“Does my speech have an accent?” asked Calliodorus, interested.

“Yes,” she said.

“Ah,” he said. He, like most people, was not accustomed to thinking of his own

speech as having an accent.

“And what is my accent?” he asked.

“I make it out to be Cosian,” she whispered.

“And what of the accents of the men?” he asked.

“The same,” she said.

“In whose power are you then?” he asked.

“In the power of Cosians!” she said, suddenly, now sure of it.

“You may speak,” he said.

“Spare me!” she suddenly begged. “Spare me, noble Cosians!” She clasped her

hands together piteously, holding them forth toward Calliodorus and Aemilianus.

“Spare me!” she wept. “Take pity on a female!”

The men were silent, observant.

Their silence must have been disconcerting to the girl. She indicated her

beauty, as she could, with her chained hands.

“I think that I am not unattractive,” she said, piteously, desperately. “See?

See? And it is my hope that my face, too, should you be pleased to look upon it,

may be found not unattractive!”

“Do you seek to interest your captors?” he asked.

“Yes!” she said.

“As a female?” he asked.

“Yes!” she said.

“Say it,” said he.

“I seek to interest my captors,” she said, “as a female!”

(pg.364) “What have you have of us?” he inquired.

“My life!” she wept.

“On what condition?” he asked.

“Any of your election,” she said.

“Absolute bondage?” he asked.

“Of course!” she said, unhesitantly.

“Even to Cosians?” he asked.

“Certainly!” she said.

“Why should Cosians accept you as a slave?” he asked.

“I—I do not understand,” she faltered.

“Do you think it would be in their interest to accept you as a slave?” he asked.

“I do not understand,” she said.

“Do you think you would prove to be of any value to them as a slave?”

“I would strive desperately to be of value,” she said.

“Perhaps you should be bloodied and thrown overboard to river sharks.”

“No!” she wept.

“Do you think that just any woman can make a satisfactory slave?”

“I do not know,” she said, “but I beg the opportunity to try!”

“You would serve Cosians then?” he asked.

“Yes!” she wept.

“Belly,” he said.

She slipped to her belly on the deck, her hands up, beneath her shoulders. She

lifted herself a little from the deck, lifting her head, still half concealed in

hood, to Calliodorus and Aemilianus. Her lips were lovely, and trembling.

“Go to your back,” said Calliodorus.

She lay on her back.

Suddenly she lifted one knee, and pointed her toes. She had realized then,

suddenly, that something was being done to her analogous, in its small way, to

putting a girl through slave paces. She tried her best to be appealing.

“To your belly, again,” said Calliodorus.

He had hardly spoken before she was on her belly, as before. Quick was she, she

would show him, to obey.

“Kneel,” he said.

She returned to her kneeling position.

(pg.356) “Of what are you worthy, female?” he inquired.

“Only to be a slave,” she said.

“Speak,” he said.

“I beg the inestimable honor and privilege of being made an absolute slave,” she

said.

“To Cosians?” he asked.

“To any man,” she said.

It irritated me that she had spoken as she had to them for it was as if she were

not already a slave, and an unconditional, categorical and absolute slave. She

had not even addressed the men as “Master.” Clearly she suspected, or hoped, and

nothing had as yet occurred to gainsay this suspicion or hope, that they did not

know she was already a slave, that she had only yesterday spoken

self-irreversible words of self-enslavement on the upper battlements. She did

not know, of course, that I was also on board.

“Unhood her,” said Calliodorus.

I stepped back, so that the slave could not see me.

Then the slave was blinking and crying, and rubbing her eyes with the backs of

her fists.

Then, having managed to adjust somewhat to the light, and managing to achieve

some grasp of her surroundings, and seeing in the midst of what men she knelt,