Vagabonds of Gor (64 page)

I nodded. I was not pleased to hear this, but I had already suspected it would be so.

"Leave them," he said. "They will never get through."

"Perhaps you would care to tarry a few Ehn," I suggested.

"I should leave," he said.

"My friend, Plenius," I said, "has, I think, saved some hard bread in his pack, a piece or two. It is old and stale now, but you might find it of interest. Have you ever had such?"

"No," he said. "I do not think so."

"Would you care to try some?"

"I think not," he said.

"It can be fetched," I said, "when Plenius is free."

" 'Fetched'?" he said.

"By the female, of course," I said.

"Of course," he said.

"Ina," I said.

She sprang up from the sand and came and knelt before us, her head bowed.

"Is this a slave?" he asked.

"No," I said, "a mere captive."

He looked upon Ina, the beauty in her appropriate posture of submission.

"Ina," I said, "when Plenius is free, ask him if he would give you a piece of hard bread, for myself and my young friend here."

"Yes, my captor," she said, rising from the sand, and hurrying to Plenius, who was near Labienus.

"She obeys promptly," he observed.

"She will be lashed well, if she does not," I said.

"I see," he said.

In a moment or two Ina returned, and knelt. She had with her a small piece of hard bread. It was one of the last two, I think, which Plenius had had. I was grateful to him for his generosity in giving it to us. It was one of the few things we had in the camp that would be likely to seem edible to our rence lad. It, at least, was not raw.

"Break it in two, Ina," I said, "and give our guest the largest half."

"Yes, my captor," she said.

To be sure, it was not by means of the hard bread that I hoped to detain our young friend in the camp for a time.

"Serve first our guest, Ina," I said, correcting her behavior, for she was apparently preparing to serve me first.

"Yes, my captor," she said.

From her knees she offered the lad the larger of the two pieces of hard bread, which he accepted, and then, similarly, served me.

We looked upon Ina, at our feet.

"She is muchly bared," he said.

"By my will," I said.

"I see," said he.

"Men enjoy looking upon the beauty of captives and slaves. Do you not?"

"Yes," he said, hesitantly. Then he said, "Yes!"

"Good," I said.

Ina's hands, she blushing beneath our gaze, stole upward, crossed, to cover her breasts.

"You have not received permission to cover your breasts, Ina," I informed her.

Quickly she brought her hands down, to her thighs. "Forgive me, my captor," she said.

"Your breasts are beautiful," I told her, "and you must show them, if your captors desire."

"Thank you, my captor," she said. "Yes, my captor."

"Or any, or all of you," I said.

"Yes, my captor," she said. "Forgive me, my captor."

"How strong you are with her!" marveled the lad.

"She is female," I explained, a bit puzzled. I was somewhat surprised at his outburst. I gathered that he might not be familiar with women under male domination.

"How beautiful are women," he said.

"Yes," I said. "Will you not sit down and enjoy your bread?"

"I must be going," he said.

I looked at Ina, somewhat sternly.

Quickly she opened her knees, in the sand, trembling.

"Have you ever had a woman?" I asked.

"Perhaps," said he, "I could tarry for a moment."

We sat down and nibbled at the hard bread.

He could not, it seemed, take his eyes from the captive. She knelt very straight, but did not dare to meet his eyes.

"How do you like it?" I inquired.

"She is beautiful!" he said.

"The bread," I said.

"It-it is interesting," he said.

I saw that the lad was polite. Such hard bread, and such rations, are commonly found in the packs of soldiers. Some fellows claim to like it. Plenius, for example, had been hoarding a bit of it for weeks. On the other hand, perhaps it was merely that he could not bring himself to eat it, that he was hoarding it merely as a last resort against the ravages of imminent starvation. Certainly he had volunteered it for our needs quickly enough. On the other hand, he probably did like it. Indeed, I myself was not unfond of such rations, at least upon occasion. To be sure, I would not recommend them for the pièce de résistance at an important diplomatic banquet, if only to avoid the possible precipitation of war.

"Ina," said I, "fetch water."

"Yes, my captor!" she said.

We watched her hurry off on her errand.

"Are there such women in your village?" I asked.

"No," said he. "There is nothing like her in the village."

"But surely there are some comely wenches there," I said, "who might, suitably clothed and trained, be much like her."

"Ah!" said he. "Perhaps!" I did not doubt but what he had a maid or two in mind.

We watched Ina going to the well hole, dug in the sand near the shore earlier, into which marsh water might filter, and there kneel down, to fill a small metal bowl.

"Where did you pick her up?" he asked, casually, rather as might a fellow to whom the acquisition of females was a familiar matter.

"In the rence," I smiled.

"I do not think she is a rencer," he said.

"No," I said. "She is a woman from Ar."

"There must be a few such in the rence," he said.

"It would seem so," I said.

"One," said he, "was captured not far from my village, in a purple barge. Her retainers fled."

"Did you see her?" I asked.

"No," he said. "My mother would not let me look upon her, naked in her bonds."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Perhaps she was afraid I would want her," he said.

"Perhaps she was afraid you might become a man," I said.

"Perhaps," he said.

"Do you think she was much like that one?" I asked, indicating Ina, who had now filled the bowl.

"No," said the youth, "for that one was a haughty, frigid woman, adjudged unworthy even to be a slave."

"A woman who is haughty and frigid," I said, "need not remain that way. Indeed, it is amusing to take such a woman and turn her into a panting, begging slave."

"This one," said he, "was adjudged unworthy of being a slave."

"On what grounds?" I asked.

"On the basis of her character," he said.

"But in slavery," I said, "it is easy to reform a woman's character. The whip may be used, if necessary."

"Perhaps," he said.

"What was done to her?" I asked.

"She was put out for tharlarion," he said.

"And what happened to her?" I asked.

"I would suppose she was devoured," he said. "Even the pole to which she was tied was uprooted."

"What of that one?" I asked, indicating Ina, now approaching us, holding the bowl, carefully.

"She is much different," he said.

"How?" I asked.

"She is warm, and soft, and exciting and obedient," he said.

"Does she seem to you worthy to be a slave?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

"How would you know?" I asked.

"I can tell," he said.

"How?" I asked.

"I have seen slaves," he said.

"There are slaves in your village?" I asked.

"No," he said, "but I was once taken to Ven by my father. There I saw slaves."

"Did you like them?" I asked.

"Yes!" he said.

"And you had one?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

Ina now came before us and knelt, before us, close to us, with the bowl of water.

"There are some slaves in the delta," he said, "here and there, but I have not seen them."

"Your mother would not approve?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"Perhaps there are some in the village of Tamrun?" I suggested.

"The women there," he said, "are all kept as slaves. It was done to them two years ago."

"I see," I said.

"My mother will not let me go to that village," he said, "but the older men from my village go."

"I see," I said.

"It is said that five women there wear the disk of Tamrun."

"He must be quite a man," I said.

"In his hut," said he, "he is well served."

"I can imagine," I said.

"It was shortly after that time," said the lad, "that he became one of the great leaders in the rence."

"Interesting," I said. I glanced at Ina.

"My captor?" she inquired.

"You may serve our guest," I said.

"In the manner in which I have been taught?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

She made certain her knees were widely spread in the sand, and then she extended her arms, her head down, between them, the bowl held out to our young guest. "Water, captor?" she inquired.

He took the bowl from her and, not taking his eyes off her, drank.

"Unfortunately we have no wine," I said, "and, of course, she is not a slave."

"Oh?" he said.

"I refer to the 'Wine-Master' presentation," I said, "in which the slave offers not only wine to the master, but herself, and her beauty, for his consideration."

"Once in Ven I was proffered wine by a slave."