Vagabonds of Gor (50 page)

Although opposition to this plan was at first fierce, the high council agreed at last. Accordingly, the high-caste young women of Harfax were privately stripped and examined. Those deemed the most beautiful were then entered on records and given a locked bracelet to wear. A month later they were taken to Besnit and reduced to bondage. After this they were trained in Besnit by the slaves of men of Besnit. After their training they were sold, some from the city, some within it, these decisions made by lottery. Besnit and Harfax, since that time, have been staunch allies. The proceeds from the first sales of the girls, when they were first put up for auction, whether out of the city or within it, went to the public treasury of Besnit.

She trembled with pleasure.

"We should camp soon," I said.

I saw the fin of a shark several feet to the left, gliding through a stand of rence.

"Look to the left," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Keep on the raft," I said.

"Yes, my captor," she said. She coiled the strap running to her collar once or twice, shortening her own tether. Then she knelt and came forward a little, near me.

I looked down at her, and she looked up at me, happily.

"Am I pretty on my knees?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked.

"You are still interested in that?" I asked.

"Of course," she said.

"We shall see," I said.

"I am totally at your mercy, you know," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"And you will do with me what you please, will you not?" she asked.

"Of course," I said.

"Good," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said.

I poled the raft to the right. There was, to the right, about a hundred yards away, a likely looking island on which to make a camp.

"You could even sell me, couldn't you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Is that your intention," she asked, "to sell me?"

"Perhaps," I said.

She looked up at me.

"The thought interests you, doesn't it?" I asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

"And you are curious, are you not," I asked, "as to what it would be to be the most sexual, exciting and desirable of all women, the female slave?"

"A free woman dare not even think of such things," she said.

"Think of them," I said.

"Yes, my captor," she said, frightened.

"And you may think of them," I said, "whenever and however, and as frequently and for as long, as you wish."

"Yes, my captor," she whispered.

She then kissed me, and, putting forth her small, pink tongue, ticked me, delicately, softly, on the leg.

"And if I sell you?" I asked.

"I would endeavor to be worthy of my price," she said.

"And I would endeavor, if I were you, to well please my master."

"Yes," she said, looking up, "I would endeavor to well please my master."

I brought the raft to rest at the island. I had had her stand and was reaching to remove the collar from her throat when we heard, it seemed from far off, a piteous cry.

"It is an animal," she said, frightened. I looked at her.

"An animal, caught in sand!" she said.

"No," I said.

We heard the cry again. To be sure, it had a weird, inhuman sound about it.

"Yes," she said.

"No," I said. "It is a man."

I then waded into the marsh and thrust the raft higher on the sand.

We heard the cry again.

I drew the length of binding fiber from her collar and began to tie her hands behind her back.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

I saw she still had something of the free woman in her.

"You will be here when I return," I said.

"I will not run away!" she said.

"I am sure you will not," I said.

"Oh!" she said, wincing, as I jerked tight the fiber.

"There," I said, knotting it.

We heard the cry again.

"Do not investigate," she said. "It could be dangerous!"

I spun her about.

She looked at me, frightened.

"What is wrong?" she asked.

"Oh!" she said, cuffed. She turned back, again, to look at me, startled. There was blood at her lip.

"Belly," I said.

" 'Belly'?" she said.

I took her by the hair and threw her angrily to the sand, on her belly.

"Feet," I said.

This time she had enough presence of mind to squirm to my feet and press her lips upon them, kissing them.

I stepped back from her. "Free woman!" I said.

She twisted about then, to her side, and then, there, lying in the sand, on her side, looked up at me, frightened, the blood at her lip, her hands tied behind her back, the strap on her throat.

"Get on your knees," I said.

"Yes, my captor!" she said, frightened, and struggled to her knees.

I regarded her, on her knees before me.

"Please do not beat me," she said.

"Why should I do that?" I asked. "You are a free woman."

I then set off across the sand, to investigate the source of the cry. I looked back once to see her kneeling in the sand. Her hands were behind her back. Looping up to her buckled collar was the strap to her collar, that tethering her to the raft.

She was pretty on her knees.

To be sure, she was still only a free woman.

Chapter 27 - THE FEMALE OBTAINS CERTAIN INSIGHTS

"Help!" cried the man in the sand.

It was now high, about his waist. It is not hard to stumble into such sand. One might wade into it unwittingly. Then, instead of supporting one's weight, with a give of some inches, it seems, suddenly to grasp the ankles, and then gravity begins its slow work. Most quicksand, of course, is not particularly dangerous, as often one can turn about and scramble back, out of it, or reach in one's struggles a more solid footing, or its edge, or it is only two or three feet deep. It is extremely dangerous, of course, in certain expanses and depths.

For example, if one is several feet into a pool of it before one realizes this, one might be trapped, too, of course, if the sand is deep, deeper than the height of the trapped organism. Sometimes such pools are extremely treacherous, as when they have a natural concealment, the sand at their top, supported by surface tension, seemingly continuous with adjacent sand, or when covered with algae or swamp growth. The pools differ, too, in their density. In some one sinks relatively rapidly, in others, where the sand is of greater density, the same relative loss of elevation may take several Ehn, in some cases as much as half of an Ahn.

There are several techniques for avoiding the dangers of quicksand. One may follow a tested, scouted path, either following others or keeping to marked passages, if they exist; one should not go into such areas alone, one should not travel in close proximity to the others, one should have rope, and so on. If one struggles, one sinks faster. Thus, in certain cases, it is rational to attempt to remain calm and call for help. Of course, if no one is about, and one will otherwise inevitably sink, it makes sense to attempt to free oneself, by wading, or, in effect, trying to swim free. If one's legs are locked in the sand, of courses, one is considerably handicapped in such efforts. I think, from his appearance, that he had muchly struggled in the sand, this suggesting he was alone. But now, it seemed, he had stopped struggling, and was simply crying out for help, in case, presumably despite all probabilities, any might be about. I gathered that he had ceased his struggles, convinced that they were futile. I suspected he was correct.

The fellow in the sand wore the uniform of Ar.

I saw no one else about. I gathered that he was alone, probably foraging.

"Help!" he suddenly cried, seeing me, reaching out toward me. "Help! Help!"

He was covered with the slime and sand of the marsh.

"Friend!" he cried. "Fellow soldier of Ar! Help!"

I stood forth, at the edge of the pool of sand. He was about ten feet from me.

"Help!" he cried. I regarded him.

"I am absolutely helpless!" he said. "I am trapped! I cannot move without sinking further!"

That seemed to me true.

"I am sinking!" he cried. "Render me assistance or I will die!"

I saw no point in disputing his assessment of the situation. As nearly as I could determine, it was perfectly correct.

"Fellow soldier of Ar," said he, "help me, I beg of you!"

"I am not a soldier of Ar," I said. He looked at me, wildly.

"Do you not recognize me?" I asked. He moaned with misery.

My heart was consumed with rage toward him. Had I had him within the compass of my blade I might have run him through, then hacked him into meat for tharlarion.

"Help me!" he said.

The sand was now to his chest. I regarded him.

"Help me, friend!" said he. He put out his hand to me.

"I am not your friend," I said.

"Help me," he said. "Please!"

"You are not an honorable man," I said.

"Please!" he cried.

His eyes were wild. His hand was out, piteously, helplessly, to me.

I turned about and left the side of the pool of sand.

"Sleen! Sleen!" I heard him weep, after me.

I strode angrily back to the raft. Seeing my face, and the ferocity of my stride, Ina, on her knees by the raft, swiftly put her head down to the sand. She trembled. I seized her by the upper arms and flung her on her back in the sand and discharged lightning into her softness. Then she lay shattered, gasping, in the sand. She looked up at me, wildly. I seized up the pole from the raft in fury and strode back to the pool of sand. Then, angrily, I extended it toward the soldier of Ar, Plenius, who had been my keeper. The sand was then about his mouth. His hands reached piteously toward the pole. He could not reach it. Then he managed to grasp it with one hand, then two. Then I drew him, filthy, covered with sand and water, from the pool, to the dry land. He was trembling there.

I drew my sword. I expected him to attack me.

He drew his, but, on his knees, plunged it into the sand, before me. He did the same with his dagger.