Hunters of Gor (33 page)

speaking I tore the skins at their left thighs to the waist, revealing their

brands.

“Do not forget you are slave girls,” I told them.

“Yes, Master,” they said.

I threw the switch to the red-haired girl. “Keep order in the camp,” I said. I

turned to Ilene, and pointed to the red-haired girl. “She is now first girl in

the camp,” I said. “Until my return you are to her as her slave.”

“Yes, Master,” said Ilene.

“Come here,” said the red-haired girl.

Ilene went and stood before her.

“To your knees, Slave,” said the red-haired girl.

Ilene fell to her knees.

“Kiss my feet, Slave,” said the red-haired girl

“Yes, Mistress,” whispered Ilene and, fearfully, did so.

“You two,” I told the other two paga slaves, the dark-haired girl and the blond

one, “come with me.”

I strode toward the perimeter of the camp. At its perimeter I turned. I looked

back at the red-haired girl, Ilene, in her yellow silk, was still kneeling at

her feet. “Keep order in the camp,” I told the red-haired girl.

She slapped the switch into the palm of her left hand. “I will,” she said.

In their camp the men of Tyros doubtless felt secure. It was my wish to convince

them that this was not the case.

I might have entered the camp, but I did not chose to do so. I would, merely,

deprive it of its guards. In the morning they would awaken and discover that

they had been unguarded.

I expected then that they would move their camp. They would then understand that

the camp afforded them no protection. On the march, however, they would

discover, to their dismay, that there was even less protection.

Strung out in the march, perhaps eventually without points and scouts, they

would prove easy game.

There were six panther girls guarding the camp. I would locate them,

individually, and then rendezvous with my two accompanying slaves.

The paga slaves, in the skins of panther girls, in the darkness, would approach

one of the guards.

They would be halted.

“We are returning,” they would say.

Then, quietly, from the rear, my hand would close over the mouth of the guard.

She would be thrown down, gagged, and bound hand and foot. I would then locate

another guard, and repeat the same stategem. Interestingly, only two of the

guards were immediately suspicious. The initial response of the other four

girls, until they had seem the approaching women were not of their band, was on

of intense relief. They almost ran to their arms. It had not occurred to them

that these women might not be of their own band. To the best of their knowledge

they were the only panther girls in the area. Indeed, their information was not

incorrect. It was only that, in the darkness, they mistook paga slaves in the

skins of panthers for their sisters of the forest, at least returning to the

band. Their mistake, natural though it was, was a costly one. In my camp, bound

in my coffle, they could contemplate it at their leisure. The two girls who were

more suspicious fared no better. They, too, were distracted by the approaching

women. They, too, were unaware of my presence, completely unaware, until my hand

closed over their mouth and they felt themselves, helplessly, being dragged

backward into the brush.

When we were finished we collected the guards. We unbound their ankles and tied

them together by the neck. We then herded them to our camp. Before I retired I

saw them stripped and added to the coffle.

There were now twenty-one prisoners, each of them a beauty. I was weary. “See

that they rest well,” I said. “Do not permit them to struggle.”

“I will,” said the red-haired girl, with her switch. She strode among the

panther girls. They lay very still, not daring to move a muscle, fearing her.

I looked up at the moons, and fell asleep.

The next morning, early, the camp of the men of Tyros had been broken.

They were gone.

But, with the long slave chain they held, they would move with great slowness.

I returned to my camp. It, too, had now served its purpose.

The men of Tyros, in their flight, had abandoned much baggage, their own, and

baggage taken from the camp of Marlenus. They were interested in moving as

swiftly as they might. It would not, however, be swiftly enough.

Some of what they had abandoned I thought I might be able to use.

In my camp I had the dark-haired girl and the blond unbind the ankles of the

panther girls.

I then had the red-haired girl with the switch, order them to their feet.

I would take my prisoners first to the site of the old camp, and then, by a

parallel route, we would follow my enemies.

“Coffle them by the left ankle,” I told the dark-haired girl and the blond.

They did so. The panther girls were now tied together by the neck and by the

left ankle. Their hands were still bound behind their back.

“You many remove their gags,” I told the dark-haired girl. She did so, one by

one. The girls threw back their heads, some with their eyes closed and drank the

air.

I had seen, among the baggage abandoned at the old camp, a sack of slave hoods.

I would use them, if necessary, on the prisoners. Normally, however, I did not

expect to be within earshot of the enemy. Many slave hoods, and those at the

site of the old camp were among these, combine the advantages of the blindfold

and gag. They fit entirely over the girl’s head and buckle under the chin, about

the neck. Some are of leather, others of canvas. Some lock.

We took the prisoners to a nearby stream and watered them. We then let them,

with their teeth, pick fruit from low-hanging branches.

We then marched them to the site of the old camp. They would be my porters.

I had Ilene gather fruit and nuts for me as we made our way through the forest.

About the neck of the last panther gild in the coffle were slung seven quivers

of arrows, which I had taken from various prisoners.

At the site of the old camp I had the red-haired girl order the panther girls to

their backs.

From one of the abandoned crates, discarded now because of its weight and its

putative lack of utility, I spilled a quantity of chains to the grass. They were

Harl rings, named for the slaver Harl of Turia, who is reported to have first

used them. They consist, I effect, of four portions. First, there is a metal

ankle ring, which snaps about the girl’s ankle. Second, to the back of the ring,

there is welded a closed loop. Third, to the front of the ring, fastened through

another closed loop, is about a yard of chain. Fourth, this chain terminates in

a locking device, which may then be snapped shut, if one wishes, through the

welded, closed loop on the back of a second ankle ring. The Harl ring is a

versatile piece of custodial hardware. It may be used to chain a girl to

anything, the ankle ring closed on her ankle, and the locking device at say,

about a tree, or stanchion, or the ankle of another girl, and then locked about

its own chain, or through one of the links of its own chain. The chain, of

course, may also be looped about, say, a tree, or a piller in a public building,

and the locking device snapped into the welded ring on the back of the girl’s

own ankle ring. This is called a closed Harl Loop. One of the most frequent uses

of the Harl ring, of course, is to form a segment in a slave chain, which may

then be of any length, adding or removing girls, as short or as long as the

slaver wishes.

I looked at the panther girls lying on their backs, at the site of the old camp.

“Remove the binding fiber from their left ankles,” I told the dark-haired girl.

She did so.

“Extend your left legs,” I told the panther girls, “and bend and lift your right

knee, heel to the ground.”

They did so.

I went to the last girl. I closed the heavy metal ankle ring about her ankle,

snapping it shut, and extended its chain, with its locking device, to her right.

I then took the second Harl ring and closed it about the ankle of the next girl.

I then took the locking device at the termination of the first girl’s ankle ring

and snapper it shut, through the closed, welded loop on the back of the second

girl’s ankle ring. The two were now chained together. I then extended the chain

on the second girl’s ankle ring to her right. I then locked the third girl’s

ankle ring to her, and then snapped the locking device on the chain of the

second through the welded, closed loop of the third girl’s ring on her. Three

were now fastened together. “Please do not chain me,” begged the fourth girl.

She knew the dangers, the helplessness, of wearing chains in the forest. I did

not speak to her. I chained her. I proceeded, thus, girl to girl, through the

fair prisoners. When I finished, I stood up. I looked at the girls, lying on

their backs. They were now a slave chain.

“Stand,” I said.

With a rattle of chain, they stood. There were tears on the cheeks of several.

“Remove the binder fiber from their throats,” I told the dark-haired girl, “and

untie their hands.”

She did so.

I went to her who was now the first girl in the chain, she who had been last to

be chained. There was, seemingly left over, the yard of chain, coiled on the

grass, attached to the front of her ankle ring. It may be used, of course, to

fasten the entire chain about, or to, some suitable object, a pillar, a

stanchion, a wagon wheel, a tree, a column in a market colonnade, a post in a

bazaar, one of the heavy slave rings, set in the ground, usually found at the

edges of a square in a Gorean city. But, that it not impeded the girl, I picked

it up and, with the locking device through one of the links in the chain,

fastened it about her left wrist. She could carry it that way until it was

needed.

One key, incidentally, serves for an entire set of ankle rings and locking

devices. The key had been in the crate with its set of Harl rings. I dropped the

key in my pouch.

“You have chained us,” said one of the girls, a blond one, standing proud in her

ankle ring, her feet widely apart. “Our safety is entirely in your hands.”

“A single panther,” wept another, cringing, the ankle ring fastened to her left

ankle, “could kill us all.”

I did not respond to them. I walked about the chain.

“Posture!” cried the red-haired girl, with her switch. She struck two of the

girls with stinging stripes.

Then the captive panther girls, fearing her, stood well. Their backs were

straight, their heads were high. Their trim ankles were together. Their

shoulders were back, their bellies flat and tight.

“You are of the warriors,” said the blond girl in the ankle ring looking

straight ahead.

“I am of the merchants,” I told her.

“No merchant,” she said, “could have taken us as you did. You are of the

warriors.”

I shrugged. It was true I had once been of the warriors.

“Sit,” I told them. The girls sat down on the grass.

With the aid of the paga slaves, and Ilene, I sorted through, discarding here

and saving there, the baggage abandoned at the campsite. There was much of some

value, though mostly bulk goods. I found quantities of slave meal, which is

mixed with water, and silks, and bowls, and collars. Not inscribed, and lengths

of dried meat, stretched and salted; and coils of rope and chains. I have

already mentioned the sack of slave hoods. Too, there was a small box of slave

bracelets, all opening to the same key. The box, though small, was heavy, for

slave bracelets, in quantity, are heavy. There was a large, rolled tarpaulin,

which might probe useful. The girls could be slept under it at night. The edges

could be pegged down. It would provide some protection from cold night rains,

and some protection, though less, against panthers and sleen. Among the baggage,

too, I found items which had been brought from Verna’s camp, which had been

taken originally by Marlenus to his camp, and captured there by the men of Tyros

and the band of Hura. Among these items I found the remaining bottles of drugged

wine, those which we had not drunk, when we had fallen captive to Verna and her

band, not seemingly so long ago. I smiled. Such an exotically vintaged wine

might prove of value. These items, and many others from the baggage abandoned at

the old camp, I sorted through. When I had decided what we would and would not

take, I, and Ilene and the paga slaves divided up the burdens. Four girls, on

their shoulders, would carry the heavy tarpaulin.

I was pleased with the amount of foodstuffs found left behind. It did not seem

likely to me that it would have been poisoned, but, even if it were, I and the

paga slaves would be in little danger from it. It would be fed first to the

prisoners.

The fists of the chained panther girls, sitting chained on the grass, were

clenched. They could not believe what they saw before them, boxes, and bundles,

the rolled tarpaulin.

“We are panther girls!” cried the blond girl in the ankle ring. “We are not

porters of a man!”

it was she who was struck first with the switch by the red-haired girl, who

leaped among them, striking and slashing with the supple lash.