Authors: John Norman
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Action & Adventure, #Adventure
"You recognize it?" I said. She whimpered once.
She would acknowledge its recognition explicitly. Such things are good for the discipline of a female.
This was all that I saw about of the remains of her barge. It had been purple, and gilded, its bow carved in the likeness of a long-necked, sharp-billed marsh gant. Its stern had been carved to represent feathers. The poles used in propelling it had been gilded, as well. It had been surmounted by an open, golden cabin, covered with a translucent golden mesh. None of this was now visible. The neck and head of the gant was discolored, dark on dark, and partly charred. Most of the gilding was gone, perhaps scraped with knives, or burned away.
"Perhaps," I said, "when the rencers took you, after they had stripped and bound you, they permitted you to witness the burning of your barge?"
She whimpered once.
"You would make this observation, presumably," I said, "tied on your knees, your wrists fastened to your ankles, in a rence craft."
She looked at me, surprised.
"That you were in a rence craft would indicate that you were in their power," I said, "and too, you might then be conveniently transported from the place."
She regarded me.
"It would be common, too, of course," I said, "not simply because you were a conquered enemy, but, in particular, because you are a female, to tie you on your knees. That is often done, for example, with female slaves. Surely the appropriateness and meaningfulness of tying a female on her knees does not require elucidation, no more than the effectiveness of its security."
Tears sprang to her eyes.
"But they would not daily too long in the place," I said, "and so you did not see the barge entirely burnt. Once it was well afire your ankles would be freed from your wrists, and you would be put on your belly in the rence craft, still, of course, bound hand and foot. Am I correct?"
She whimpered once, her eyes bright with tears.
"You would also," I conjectured, "prior to having your wrists freed from your ankles, and being put on your belly in the rence craft, have been blindfolded."
She whimpered twice.
"You were permitted to see where you were being taken in the marsh?" I asked.
Two whimpers.
"You were not blindfolded, but hooded?" I said.
She whimpered once.
"A slave hood?"
One whimper.
"Good," I said.
The hood tends to be more effective than the blindfold as a security device. For example, it is difficult to dislodge it, as it ties under the chin, by, say, rubbing it against a wall or tree. An advantage of the blindfold, of course, is that it enables the mouth of the female to be seen, and to be kissed, and such. It also allows her to use her own mouth, of course, in kissing, and such. The half hood is a device intended to couple something of the effectiveness of the full hood with the various exploitable advantages of the mere blindfold.
I had not known, incidentally, that the rencers now made use of slave hoods. They perhaps obtained them through trade, as well as additional women. Many things had changed since I had been in the marsh, long ago. Some rencers even charged tolls to freight moving through the marsh. Also, it was not always easy to transport female slaves through the marsh now. Rencers had apparently discovered their delights. I recalled the barge which had been encountered in the marsh several days ago, when I had been a prisoner, it, I was sure, given its condition, was merely an abandoned derelict. On the other hand I supposed there might be similar barges here and there in the marsh which had been waylaid, their cargoes then distributed among strong men.
"That you were put in a slave hood," I said, "suggests that they might, at that point, have had an open mind on whether or not to keep you as a slave, or sell you."
She looked at me.
"If they had planned at that time on putting you out for tharlarion they might not have bothered hooding you."
She shuddered.
"Perhaps as they got to know you better they decided that in spite of your beauty you were not worthy of being made a slave."
She looked up at me, angrily.
"But, at that time, most likely," I said, "your fate was still to be decided by a council."
She nodded, vigorously.
I regarded her.
She whimpered, once.
"And perhaps it was then, a few days later, by the council, that it was decided officially, and after due deliberation, after they had had a chance to assess your character with care, that you were not worthy of being a slave."
Tears of anger sprang to her eyes.
"But perhaps they decided to put you out for tharlarion because of their hatred for Ar, and things of Ar," I said.
She looked away.
"Ah," I said, "then it was at least primarily because they did not regard you as being worthy even to be a slave."
She whimpered once, pathetically.
"I wonder if they were right," I said.
She then knelt in the shallow water, there by the bar. It came up only over her knees and calves. She put down her head.
"But perhaps they were wrong," I said.
She lowered her head further.
"Too," I said, "as I may once have called to your attention, it is not difficult to reform a woman's character, once she is in a collar."
She trembled.
"I once called that to your attention, did I not?" I asked.
She whimpered once.
I bent down and drew the lovely wooden piece, fashioned in the likeness of the neck and head of a gant, from the sand. I put it down on the sand. I regarded the head, the eyes, the graceful curve of the neck. "It is a lovely piece of work," I said.
She lifted her head a little, and, too, regarded the artifact.
"The barge, too, was lovely," I said, "though I suppose some might have regarded it as a trifle too ornate, too prideful, too ostentatious, with purple, and the gilding, the poles, the golden cabin, with the golden mesh."
She looked at me.
"Some, too," said I, "might have preferred a craft with sleeker lines, but I would personally effect nothing critical on that score. It was built for luxury and a woman's comfort, not for speed."
Tears came to her eyes.
"Ships have different purposes and different beauties," said. "There are many varieties of them and each in its way is lovely, in this way they are not unlike women. Many different sorts of women bring high prices in the slave market. Too, one always buys more than meat. What all these women have in common is that they are slaves, and must serve with perfection."
She sobbed.
"I find nothing wrong with your lines," I said. "To be sure, if a master wished, he might order them changed, and you might find yourself afflicted then with a sparse, strict diet and a frightening program of exercise. But similarly, if you were being examined on a mat in the Tahari you might find yourself regarded as insufficiently fleshy, and find yourself forced, under the whip, to eat rich creams and such, being thereby fattened for sale like a she-tarsk."
She regarded me, with horror.
"Do not regret, for example," said I, "that your lines may not be as sleek as that of the female racing slave. I assure you that while men may bet eagerly upon her they seldom regard her, personally, as the one most worth catching. Too, the woman who is hardest to catch is not always the one most worth catching. Indeed, some of the most desirable women are the ones most easily caught, for they wish to be caught, and to serve. They may pretend a fuss at first, as they might feel is expected of them, but they are seldom in their collars more than a few Ahn before they are content and joyful."
She looked up at me.
"But then all women belong in collars," I said, "for theirs is the slave sex."
She put down her head.
"And it is only in bondage," I said, "that they can obtain their true fulfillment."
She trembled.
"Doubtless the occupant of the barge," I said, "was a high-born woman, of wealth and station, of sophistication and refinement, used to traveling in the highest and most exalted circles in Ar, a woman perhaps even of some power."
She lifted her head a little.
"Too, I would conjecture that the barge contained many chests and coffers, filled with expensive clothing, and jewelry, and gold. Such a woman would doubtless travel with suitable resources and appointments. It must, too, have contained delicacies of food and drink. Such things are now doubtless spread throughout the delta, a bottle for a rencers' feast here, a veil there to strain water, somewhere else a necklace clinking, wrapped several times about the ankle of a fishing rence girl."
She looked up at me.
"The barge was that of the Lady Ina, of Ar, was it not?" I asked.
She whimpered, once.
"And as you are still a free woman," I said, "you are, in a sense, still that same Lady Ina, are you not, Ina?"
She whimpered, once.
"But now," I said, "you are a captive, kneeling, naked and bound, on a tether."
She whimpered, once.
"It seems, thus," I said, "that your fortunes have changed."
She put down her head, and whimpered once.
I then thrust the large wooden piece, carved in the likeness of the neck and head of a gant, out into the marsh. In time, perhaps a few months, it might even find its way to the Tamber, and, perhaps, in time, to the surgent green washes, the vast rolling swells, of Thassa herself, the sea.
"Come along, Ina," I said. "We must be on our way."
Chapter 22 - BLANKETS
"Captor!" she said, pleased, as I strode up the sunny sand of the small bar, coming upon our camp. Immediately she knelt, spreading her knees. It was in this fashion that I had trained her to greet me. She might also await me, kneeling, or lying down. I carried two marsh grunts, caught on the other side of the bar. I put the grunts on a rock, to be cleaned and boned. She could attend to this. I snapped my fingers, and beckoned that she might approach me. She rose to her feet and approached me, backwards, as I had taught her. I gave her a slap, and put her to the sand. She squirmed delightfully, making small noises. After a moment or so I got again to my feet. She sobbed, that I was done with her so soon. "Prepare the grunts," I told her.
"Yes," she said. For this purpose she would use a small, sharp stone.
A transformation had come over her in the past few days. She had begun to wish to be useful, and to serve. She now addressed herself eagerly, happily, to small domestic tasks. Sometimes she sang softly to herself, in their performance. She seemed even concerned, oddly enough, as she was not my slave, with my comfort, this evidencing itself in such small matters as preparing my bed in the sand. To be sure, she found herself often enough on her belly on the blankets. This was very different from her early days in my keeping, when she, as a typical free woman of high station had regarded herself as too good for the performance of such homely tasks, addressing herself quickly enough to them only to avoid the imposition of sanctions upon her, attendant on her condition as captive. In the past few days a world of improvement had taken place within her. She responded well to male dominance, kept now in her place in nature. Only in that place, where she belongs, can a woman be truly happy.