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Authors: John Norman

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BOOK: Kajira of Gor
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these nocturnal visitors wished to steal me, perhaps to make me a slave or sell

me, I would go only too willingly into whatever bondage they chose to inflict

upon me. I would enter it joyfully. I would revel in it. I would, in my

gratitude, see to it that I proved to be to them a slave beyond their wildest

dreams.

Then suddenly I was terrified. What if these visitors were not opportunists or

slavers. What if they were men of Corcyrus who wished to return me to the city,

there to subject me to secret and horrifying tortures which might shame the

agonies of an impaling spear on the walls of Argentum?

I did not know whether to cry out or not.

The cover on the cage was unlaced, and thrust back, around the cage. Two men

were there. They were dressed entirely in black. They wore masks. One of them

held an unshuttered dark lantern and the other opened a leather wrapper

containing keys and tools on the ground. He, then, with a variety of keys and

picks, and small tools, swiftly, expertly, trying one thing and then another,

addressed himself to the upper lock. He was skillful, and apparently a smith in

such matters, perhaps a skilled specialist within his caste. In fifteen Ehn both

locks had yielded. The cage door was opened and I was pulled out. I was put on

my back and the inan, swiftly, with numerous small keys, and some of the other

tools, addressed himself to my collar lock. I felt the collar pulled away. Then,

in a few Ehn, I had been freed, too, A the manacles, and then the shackles. I

was turned to my stomach. My right wrist was tied to my left ankle. I struggled

about, turning my head. I saw the golden sirik put back in he cage; it was not

the sort of thing, I gathered, which these fellows would care to have found in

their possession; I then saw the cage closed and the cover readjusted about it,

then, together, the two men, with the rope, drew it slowly upward; in a few

moments it hung quietly where it had before, when it had been occupied. If its

lowering and raising had not been noticed, I did not think that now anyone would

be likely to find anything amiss until morning, when it would be lowered and

found empty. The cord which had fastened my wrist to my ankle was then removed

and I was drawn to my feet. I was startled that I was put in no bonds. A cloak

was handed to me. I drew it swiftly about my body and over my head, grasping it

closed with my fists beneath my chin. Over my head as it was, and it being a

short cloak, too, it fell midway, as I held it about me, on my calves. I was

grateful not only for the disguise it afforded me, but, too, because it gave me

some way to conceal my nakedness. I felt a hand at my back and I was conducted

from the area of the tree and the suspended cage.

As we removed ourselves from that area we passed the slumped figures of two

guards, an overturned flagon near them.

“Holdl” called a drunken voice, as we passed between tents.

We stopped. My left upper arm, now that we bad left the area of the tree and

cage, under the cloak, was in the custody of the man on my left. He had taken it

in charge almost immediately upon leaving the cage area. He did not wish to

accept the risk, it seemed, that I might attempt to escape, perhaps impulsively

attempting to dart away into the darkness. There was little danger of that now.

His grip was like iron. I still held the cloak together, and about my face, with

my right hand. I attempted to pull the cloak forward more, and averted my face,

that my features might not be seen.

“Masks, eh?” said the newcomer. “So she is a free woman, is she? But perhaps not

for longl”

He laughed drunkenly, and staggered about, in front of us. He tried to reach for

the cloak I held clutched about my face. I turned my face away, clutching the

cloak about it.

“A modest pudding,” he said, surprised. “Forgive me, Lady,” he said, bowing low.

Then he staggered about, behind t us, again.

Then I suddenly felt the cloak being lifted behind t me. “She has legs good

enough to be those of a slave,” he said. We then proceeded on our way. I was

shaking. Too, I N now had some idea of the publicness of a slave’s body.

I was pulled back. into the shadows between some tents. D

Two guardsmen, with a lantern, passed. Then, gain, we threaded our way amongst

the canvas-lined lanes of the camp of the men of Argentum.

Most of the tents were dark. Within some were small fires. When men passed

between the fires and the canvas wall of the tent we could see their shadows on

the canvas. In one tent a girl danced slowly, sensuously, before a seated male.

Her skills suggested that she might be a camp slave, a girl from one of the

strings of camp slaves, strings Of girls owned by authorized merchants, holding

contracts for certain season or campaigns, kept within the camp, and traveling

with it, for renting out to soldiers at fees stipulated in the contracts. Too,

of course, she might be a girl even from Corcyrus, or another community, perhaps

a paga girl. Such as these are sometimes brought to the camps on speculation.

The fees for their use are not contractually controlled, as are those of the

regular camp slaves, but the fees of the camp slaves, of course, being fixed and

almost nominal, tend to exert a considerable, informal influence on the market;

they set competitive standards, ensure realistic pricings and reduce the risk of

excessive local profiteering. On Earth it is not unusual for a free woman to

attempt to take a profit on her own beauty, using it, for example, if only in

mate competitions, to advance herself economically. On Gor, however, if that

same woman should be enslaved, she will soon discover that the profits accruing

from her beauty belong now not to her, but to her master. This is quite

appropriate. It, like she herself, is his.

As we passed another tent, a darkened one, I heard the ,ounds of chains from

within. “Oh, more, Master, I beg you, please, more,” I heard, “more, more,

please, oh, my Master, more, please more, please more, my Master, I beg youl”

How scandalized I was! What was it within, a harlot, a whore! But I feared it

was far worse, something a thousand times lower, something a thousand times more

despicable and helpless, a slave.

In a few moments we stopped, between some darkened tents. I was then lifted from

my feet and placed, sitting, on he ground.

“Why are we stopping here?” I whispered. “Who are you? What are you doing!”

My last question was prompted by the fact that one of the men, the larger of the

two, he who had held my left arm, had now crossed my ankles. He was now wrapping

a long piece of binding fiber about them, sometimes looping them both, sometimes

taking it about only one ankle, sometimes snaking it about both ankles and

securing it between both with tightly drawn loops. He even, occasionally,

threaded an end through other, already secured loops. He then pulled the entire

tie tight. What he had done was far more elaborate and complex than was required

to hold a girl’s ankles. A loop or two, properly knotted, I did not doubt, would

be adequate for the perfect accomplishment of such a task. Then, to my surprise,

he placed the two loose ends of the binding fiber in my hands. I held them,

puzzled. He bad not knotted the tie. Similarly no move had been made to secure

my hands.

“Waitl” I whispered. “Nol” I then understood what they intended.

The smaller of the two men, he who had been so expert with the locks and chains,

placed his fingers across my lips.

“Nol” I whispered. “Don’t leave me! Who are you? Why have you done what you have

done?”

He increased the pressure of his fingers on my lips, and I was silent.

He leaned close to me and whispered. I did not recognize the voice.

“We have brought you here,,” he said. “It is a half of a pasang from the cage.”

I nodded, miserably.

“The camp will be awake in three Ahn,” he said.

I nodded.

He withdrew his fingers from my lips.

“Do not leave me!” I begged.

“The camp will be awake in three Ahn,” he said.

“Who are you?” I begged.

He was silent.

“Why have you done what you have done?” I asked.

“Once you did me a kindness,” he said. “I have never forgotten.”

“What kindness?” I asked.

“Our accounts are now squared,” he said. “It is done. The matter is finished.”

“And what, then, is his motivation?” I asked, indicating the’, larger man.

“It is other than mine,” said the smaller man.

The larger man then drew his cloak away from me. I was then sitting in the dirt,

naked, with my ankles fastened together, the two ends of the fiber clutched in

my hands.

“Do not leave me,” I begged. “Keep me. I am prepared even to be your slavel”

The larger man suddenly, angrily, reached for my throat. I felt those large

hands close about it. For an instant things went black. I know he could crush

the life from me at his whim.

“Do not kill her,” said the other.

The hands left my throat.

I gasped. I swallowed painfully. The larger man retrieved his cloak.

The two men stood, preparing to take their leave.

“Do not leave me here, I beg you!” I whispered.

“Already, in this,” said the smaller man, “you have been granted more than a

hundred times the lenience and favor that you deserve.”

“Are you not my friends?” I asked.

“No,” said he. “We are your enemies.”

I looked up at him, in misery.

“Farewell,” said he, “Lady Sheila, villainess and tyranness of Corcyrus.”

“Wait!” I whispered.

But they were gone, and gone in different directions. I thought of crying out,

but doubtless they would be away by the time men would come, and with their

masks doffed, who would know them? I would succeed in doing little more than

calling attention to myself.

“Wait” I whispered softly, piteously. But they had vanished.

“The camp will be awake in three Ahn,” the smaller man bad said.

Feverishly I began to unwind and unthread the binding fiber on my ankles. It

took me better than an Ehn to do so.

I saw a lantern approaching, held by one of two guardsmen. I cast aside the

binding fiber, and then crept to the side, to lie on my belly in the shadows

behind a tent. I felt one of the tent ropes on my shoulder.

I heard someone inside the tent stirring in sleep. The lantern of the guardsmen

had then passed.

15
   
Alarm Bars

“Holdl Who goes there?” called a voice. I heard the snarling of the patrol

sleen, its jerking at its chain.

Weeping, I fled back among the tents. The guardsman did not release the sleen.

He would probably not want it loose among the tents.

I crouched behind a tent, in the darkness. This was the third time I had tried

to leave the camp. Once there had been stakes and wire; another time there had

been a deep ditch; each time there had been guardsmen with sleen. The sleen, I

had little doubt, had been able to detect my approach, and had led the guardsmen

to my vicinity. The perimeter of the camp seemed ringed with guards and sleen.

The camp was heavily guarded. This was perhaps because it was still within the

range of Corcyrus, and perhaps, too, because of a special captive, a Tatrix,

thought to be chained in a suspended cage.

I looked up. I moaned. In the moonlight, not more than a hundred yards away, I

could see the cage slung from its branch. In my running, and fear, disoriented,

and once pursued by drunken soldiers, I had inadvertently returned to its

vicinity. If I were caught I did not doubt but what I would soon again find

myself the prisoner of those cramped quarters, though doubtless in fresher,

sturdier bonds, probably of iron, and not locked, but hammered closed about my

neck and limbs. The cage, too, then would probably be closed with plates and

rivets, and the guards doubled or tripled about it. I crouched down, my head in

my hands. In a little more than an Ahn, I feared, the camp would be awakened.

Already it seemed to me that there were more people about than before, more men

to avoid.

I shrank back into the shadows. Two men, cooks, I think, from their

conversation, were passing.

I heard wings overhead. Looking up I saw a tarn. It was flying northwest. Behind

it, on long ropes, dangled a tarn basket. Sleen were no problem for it, I

thought bitterly. It was not the first such departure, or, indeed, arrival, I

had noted in the camp.

I had hitherto avoided the more fit, busy portions of the camp, generally about

the areas for tradesmen, suppliers and sutlers, and the storage, delivery and

mess areas.

There were too many men there, and it would be, surely, too easy to be detected.

I, then, stealthily, my heart pounding, began to follow, keeping in the shadows,

the two men who had just passed. I was terribly frightened.

They were moving toward the center of the camp.

“What are you doing there, Slut, skulking about?” called a man. I had not seen

him, between the tents. He had some gear slung over his shoulder. He was

apparently waiting there. I backed away from him.

“Let her go,” said another man, emerging from a tent. He, too, carried some

BOOK: Kajira of Gor
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