Renegades of Gor (61 page)

Read Renegades of Gor Online

Authors: John Norman

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Adventure

kind word, or a (pg.406) moment of intimacy. She is then ready to be a slave

fully. The slave may be given more or less leash, as seems fitting, but she must

always understand that it can be shortened at a moment’s notice, and that the

whip is always ready.

“How proud I was as a free woman!” she said, shuddering.

“You are no longer a free woman,” I said.

“And even a moment ago,” she said, “I, as a slave, dared to question your usage

of me!”

“That is more serious,” I said.

“How proud I was!” she exclaimed. “Punish me!”

“No,” I said.

“I was not pleasing!” she said.

“Do not concern yourself with the matter,” I said. To be sure, had I taken

offense, I would have seen to it that she was much concerned with the matter.

“In the cell, the day you escaped,” she said, smiling, “do you remember how you

lay over me, covering my body with your own.”

“Yes,” I said.

“I thought you were trying to protect me, like a gentleman,” she laughed.

“I was protecting you,” I said.

“But you used me!” she laughed.

“Yes,” I said.

“For behind!” she said.

“That was natural,” I said, “as we were lying, as I was protecting you.”

“I was so surprised,” she said.

“You were only a naïve free woman then,” I said.

“But I was a free woman!” she said.

“True,” I said.

“Yet you used me so, in spite of the fact that I was a free woman!”

“Of course,” I said.

“How could you dare to do so?” she asked.

“It was easy,” I said.

“Undoubtedly,” she said.

“Also you were convenient, in that position,” I said.

“I see,” she said.

I lay back, looking up at the stars. The sail was furled. We were using the

current to proceed downstream.

(pg.407) “I think you used me to relieve your tensions,” she said.

“Oh?” I said.

“Yes,” she said, chidingly, cuddling up to me. “I have heard men talking about

such things. Some use their slave girls, before battle, to relieve their

tensions. I think you used me merely to relax yourself before the door to the

cell was opened.”

“Merely?” I asked.

“Yes!” she pouted.

“Do not underestimate yourself,” I said.

“Master!” she laughed, kissing me.

“On your stomach,” I said.

She obeyed immediately, unquestionly. “I love being a slave,” she said, “and

serving!”

We heard a fellow stirring about, on the deck.

“It is my keeper,” she said, clinging to me. “He will put me below, in the

hold!”

“Yes,” I said.

“Can you not keep me a little longer in your arms?” she asked, anxiously.

“A moment longer,” I said.

“Oh!” she said, softly.

Then I stood up, drawing my tunic about me.

She then half sat, half knelt, the chain depending from her collar, her head

down.

I buckled the sword belt about me.

She looked up at me, reproachfully.

“Do you object?” I asked.

“No, Master,” she said, quickly, kneeling. But her hands were on the chain

depending from her collar. She drew on it a little. It was on her.

“How is she?” asked the fellow, coming up on us.

Immediately, before her keeper, she put her head down to the deck.

“Excellent,” I said.

“Master,” she said, timidly, not daring to raise her head, “may I speak?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Publia, slave, has told Claudia, slave, that we are to be put at the prow. May

Claudia inquire of master if it be true?”

“It is true,” he said.

(pg.408) She raised her head a little, timidly. “May Claudia inquire how it is

to be done?”

“We use a harness of chains and leather,” he said. “The female is absolutely

helpless, but is beautifully displayed.”

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

“I do not know hot to be displayed at the prow,” she said.

“Do you not think the chains and leather will take care of that matter?” he

asked.

“But I mean with respect to my own appearance,” she said.

“You will be naked, of course,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” she said, in misery, teased.

The fellow laughed. “There are many different ways,” he said. “Free captures are

often encouraged to volubly bemoan their fate, to appear tragically sorrowful,

to beg mercy and lenience, to cover their bodies with tears, and so on, as they

are carried helplessly into bondage. This is amusing to the crowds at the piers.

They are then marched through the streets, to the house of one slaver or

another.”

“Much depends,” she said, “on who has contracted for captures in advance?”

“Usually,” he said.

“Seasoned slaves, on the other hand,” he said, “usually appear pleased, even

elated and joyful, and, if they do not appear so readily, they usually soon do

so, once again encouraged. Sometimes the woman is required to appear proud, even

contemptuous, for there are then fellows who will, so to speak, lie in wait for

her at her sale, and bid high for her, hoping to bring her within the scope of

their power, to get her, who was proud and contemptuous, into their collar. She

will not remain proud and contemptuous for long. Other women are encouraged to

appear terrified, or fearful. Fear in a woman is stimulating to a male and also

to the female, making her more desperate to please, more eager to feel, more

zealous to yield satisfactorily. These, and various other attitudes, may be

required of women at the prow.”

“And if they are not properly exhibited, or exhibited to the satisfaction of

masters.” She said, “then the women receive encouragement?”

(pg.409) “Yes,” he said.

“And may I inquire the nature of this encouragement?” she asked.

“The women at the prow,” he said, “are suspended within reach of a slave whip.”

“I see,” she said. The chain trembled, moving in the staple welded to the

collar.

Usually, as far as I knew, the placing of women at the prow was not attended by

such considerations. For example, when I had put women at my own prow, from time

to time, I had usually let them behave or appear in any fashion they pleased. It

was enough for me, and, I suppose, for them, that they were at the prow,

displayed and helpless. Still, it was an intriguing idea, instructing them in

the behavior they were to exhibit at the prow. In such a manner one might,

rather as if decorating the ship in a certain way, say, with bunting and

garlands, exercise more control over the impression one created in entering the

harbor.

Too, of course, one might by such a device ready the crowds for bidding on a

certain female, raise up her price, and so on. Certainly it was no secret that

slavers, particularly in the more expensive houses, occasionally planned the

sale of women in great detail, carefully regulating the order, arrangement,

style, pacing and presentation of the goods, sometimes, in effect, even

choreographing or staging the sale. But even without special attentions the

behavior of women at prows varied considerably, from such things as free women

hysterically writhing and screaming in their bonds to saucy slave girls

exchanging quips with the crowd. Sometimes, indeed, a girl would single out a

desirable male in the crowd and signal to him in no uncertain manner that she

begs to wear his collar, and that she wants only the opportunity to become for

him a dream of love and pleasure.

“And may Claudia inquire as to what behaviors may be required of herself and

Publia?” she asked.

“I do not know what the captain will decide,” he said. “I suppose that perhaps,

as you are slaves, but new slaves, it might be required that you adopt an

attitude of apprehensive ambiguity, of informed trepidation, of fearful

uncertainty, as you have some concept of what it is to be a slave, and are being

carried into a new bondage.”

(pg.410) “Yes, Master,” she said.

I supposed that even the most seasoned of slave girls must have some

apprehension every time she finds herself in a new bondage. After all, what does

she know of her new master? Very little, except that she is completely his, and

that he has total power over her.

“On your stomach, head down, over the ropes,” said the fellow to Claudia. She

turned about, instantly, an obedient slave. He then braceleted her hands behind

her back. He then thrust the heavy key he carried into the lock at the back of

her hinged collar, and dropped it to the side, near the ring, with the coil of

chain, on the deck. He then looked at her, braceleted and helpless. I left them

alone and went to the rail, on the starboard side, amidships. In a few Ihn he

brought her to the hatch, holding her by the arm. She looked at me, and then

lowered her eyes. He knelt her there and unfastened the lock on the hatch. He

opened the hatch, unbraceleted her, and indicated that she should descend into

the hold. She did so, carefully, holding to the sides of the ladderlike stairs.

She looked at me once more. Then she descended and he swung the heavy wooden

grating back in place and padlocked it shut.

After he had left I went and looked down through the grating, into the hold. By

means of the moonlight I could see a reticulated pattern of light and shadows

there, which fell across two girls, one Publia, sleeping, the other, Claudia,

still standing, near the bottom of the ladderlike stairs, who looked up at me.

Seeing my eyes on her, those of a free man, she knelt. I then turned away, and

went toward the prow. There, standing on the tiny bow deck, I looked downriver.

Tomorrow, in the afternoon, we were due to arrive at Port Cos.

24
   
Port Cos

(pg.411) “There,” said Calliodorus, standing on the bow deck, “is the pharos of

Port Cos.”

Aemilianus, standing now, but supported by Surilius, was there with us. Others,

too, were about, such as the young warrior, Marcus, who had come days before to

Port Cos, to obtain succor for the besieged of Ar’s Station, and the young

crossbowman and his friend, so young, and yet men by battle.

We looked at the tall, cylindrical structure which lay on a promontory, at the

southwesternmost point of the harbor. It was perhaps one hundred and fifty feet

high. It tapered upward, and was perhaps some twenty feet in diameter at the

top. It was yellow and red, in horizontal sections, the colors of the Builders

and Warriors, the Builders the caste that had supervised its construction and

the Warriors the caste that maintained its facilities. It was as much a keep as

a landmark. At night, in virtue of fires and mirrors, it served as a beacon.

This morning a dispatch ship had been ushered through the advance ships,

bringing news of some sort to Calliodorus. He had shared this with Aemilianus,

it seemed. On the other hand, whatever might have been the contents of the

sealed leather cylinder delivered into this hands with signs and countersigns I

did not know. The dispatch ship had then hurried back, ahead of the flotilla, to

Port Cos.

Two narrow beams, with attachment points for tackle, lay (pg.412) at the sides

of the bow deck. There were mounts in which they could be inserted.

“I had never thought to come in this way to Port Cos,” said Aemilianus.

“Nor had I ever thought to go to Ar’s Station in the capacity as I did,” said

Calliodorus.

Some men began to attach tackle, chains and harness, to the two beams.

I glanced at the face of the young man, Marcus, who had brought the ships of

Port Cos, and, apparently, those of certain other towns, as well, to the aid of

Ar’s Station. His face seemed resolute, and grim. In his way, he was a hero, and

yet, for all he had done, he, and those with him, of Ar’s Station, were coming

to this town, once their greatest rival on the Vosk, as refugees, with little

more than the clothing on their backs. There was little left now of Ar’s

Station, I speculated. There were some men, and some women and children, and a

flag, that and little else. To be sure, the Home Stone, somewhere, supposedly,

survived. At least I hoped it did. That, to Goreans, would be extremely

important. It had apparently been sent southward toward Ar. I suspected that if

its departure from the city had been much delayed, perhaps even for a few days,

it would not have been sent toward Ar. I did not think that those of Ar’s

Station now bore those of Ar much love.

“Out oars!” called the oar master, from his place before the helmsmen, aft.

I heard the great. Counterweighted levers thrust through the thole ports. The

oarsmen of Port Cos were in their best today, their tunics bright, their leather

polished, their brimless, jaunty caps atilt on their heads. They were in high

spirits. They were nearing home. They would cut quite a figure with the lasses

of Port Cos, I was sure. Doubtless there would be crowds on the docks to welcome

them.

Among these, too, I was sure there would be many girls in brief tunics and

collars, waving and joyous, and not just girls released for the occasion from

the taverns and brothels either, but from the shops, and the laundries and

kitchens, and homes, for all over the city. Such makes a sailor’s return even

more joyous. Indeed, some of the girls would undoubtedly belong to one or

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