Renegades of Gor (36 page)

“I am such a woman!” cried Lady Publia.

“How such women shame women such as I, who are weak and needful, and loving,”

said Lady Claudia.

“In your weakness and need, and love,” I said, “in your honesty, and truth, you

are a thousand times stronger, and greater, then such caricatures of women, then

such travesties of women, then such pseudomales and facsimile men, denying

themselves and their feelings, holding themselves rigid, not daring to feel or

be themselves.”

“But men keep women such as I powerless,” she said, touching her thigh.

“Yes,” I said, “and you love it.”

“Yes,” she whispered, frightened, looking down, trembling with emotion.

I gathered together the scarflike material she had had wrapped turbanlike about

her head, her veil and her “rags,” and handed them to Lady Claudia.

“What are you doing?” asked the prisoner.

“Put these over there, by the rope, and the leash and collar,” I said to Lady

Claudia.

She obeyed. She then returned, to be beside me.

“There are trumpets outside,” said Lady Claudia, suddenly.

“It is another assault,” I said. Almost simultaneously there were raised

thousands of cheers.

“There are your friends, the Cosians,” I said to Lady Publia.

“They are not my friends!” she said.

If there was a response from the walls, it was hard to make it out.

(pg.244) “But yet you were preparing yourself quite carefully, hoping to be

permitted to belong to one as a slave.”

“Liar!” she cried. I saw her small fingers move, but she did not dare to clench

her fists. The fingers moved helplessly, but the palms remained facing upward,

exposed.

“You were bearing much gold,” I said, “which, foolishly, you thought to offer to

Cosians, that they might spare you and keep you as a slave. But that was stupid.

For they would take the gold and then do what they wanted with you, putting you

to the sword or not, as they pleased.”

She cried out in anger.

“But if your thoughts in this matter had been correct,” I said, “it might have

been too bad, might it not, for many of the other women of Ar’s Station, women

less fortunate, less rich, than you, who lacked the means wherewith to purchase

their lives?”

“That could not be my concern,” she said, angrily.

“But I assure you, Lady Publia,” I said, “the pertinent determinations in such

matters, when the women are stripped and stood against a wall, are not made on

the basis of gold.”

“I suppose not,” she said, bitterly.

“Why, too,” I asked, “did you, a wealthy woman, of the Merchants, choose to wear

artful rags, as though you might be a simple low-caste maid?”

She was silent.

“There are two reasons,” I said. “The first is that you feared that the high

castes and the richer castes, such as the Merchants, might be less likely to be

spared by the enemy, that they might be the subject of more resentment, perhaps

because of envy, or perhaps that they would be particularly sought out for

vengeance, on the supposition that they, presumably the more powerful castes in

the city, might be most responsible for the prolongation of the siege. You, on

the other hand, by your disguise, so to speak, might hope to escape such a fate.

Cosians would see you, you hoped, not in terms of politics, but merely in terms

of loot. The second reason is more interesting. You wanted to be seen in terms

of something well worth hunting and capturing. Thus the artful rages, apparently

so inadvertently but excitingly, displaying your calves. You did not wish to be

brought down with a (pg.245) quarrel at a distance but to find yourself at close

quarters with captors. Then you would surrender to them.”

“No!” she cried.

“It is for such a reason,” I said, “that your rags were designed to be removed

swiftly, so easily and gracefully, and on your knees.”

“No!” she said. “No!”

“Lie quietly,” I said. “And most interestingly, and objectionably,” I said, “you

had not had your hair shorn.”

Lady Publia did not respond.

“To be sure,” I said, “you wished to give the impression that you had done so.

That was the purpose of the cloth you wore about your head. It was intended to

make it seem as though you, perhaps in understandable vanity or embarrassment,

wished to conceal shortly cropped hair. certainly I, at first, assumed your hair

had been shorn.”

“I, too,” said Lady Claudia.

“Do you recall,” I asked Lady Claudia, “that I earlier suggested that there

might be a reason, other than reasons of your sort, for not having her hair

cropped?”

“Yes,” Lady Claudia.

“Do you now suspect such a reason?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Yes,” I said. “With such hair, such lovely hair,” I said, toying with it,

behind Lady Publia’s back, “she would be more likely to be spared.”

Lady Publia tensed, angrily.

“Let other women have their hair shorn,” I said, “donating it to the defense of

their city. Not she. It, like the artful rags, their length, their ease of

removal, and such, had its clever, calculated part to play in her plan. She

would thus, retaining her hair, it enhancing her beauty, if captured, stand out

like a paga slave among mill sluts. If selections were to be made, it then seems

that surely she would be among the first chosen, not for the sword, but for the

chain.”

Lady Publia’s small fingers moved wildly, angrily, but she dared not close her

hands. The palms remained up, exposed.

“There are the trumpets again,” said Lady Claudia.

“It is the recall,” I said.

“Nut they will come again, will they not?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, “and, if necessary, again, and again.”

(pg.246) I looked down at Lady Publia.

“Does it seem fair to you,” I asked Lady Claudia, “that Lady Publia should have

such an advantage over the other women of Ar’s Station?”

“I do not know,” said Lady Claudia.

“It does not seem fair to me,” I said. “When you were going through our friend’s

pouches over there, did you find any small knives, such as a hook knife or a

shaving knife?”

I had a belt knife myself, which was sheathed on the sword belt, to the right,

but at the moment I preferred something lighter-bladed, smaller and sharper, if

it were available.

“One fellow had a shaving knife,” said Lady Claudia.

“Bring it to me,” I said.

“What do you want if for?” said Lady Publia, anxiously. In a moment Lady Claudia

had returned with the implement.

“What are you going to do!” cried Lady Publia.

“Hold still,” I said.

“No!” she wept. “no!”

In a few moments I discarded the small knife, throwing it to the side. Lady

Publia was lying in the straw, bawling. She clutched her head wildly, in dismay,

in disbelief.

“Kneel,” I said, “facing me.”

Weeping, Lady Publia obeyed, her hands still on her head.

“Now,” I said, “if Cosians come on you, you will be on the same footing as the

other women of Ar’s Station.”

Tears filled her eyes.

I had left her enough hair so that I could get my hand in it, in the scrub of

it, so that I might use it as the guard had earlier the hair of Lady Claudia, to

control her. Too, thusly, it as now of a convenient length for a Cosian to seize

it, should that eventually occur. It was of about the same length as that of

Lady Claudia.

Lady Publia, half hysterical, kept her hands on her head. This lifted her

breasts nicely. Then, seeing my eyes on her, she wept and put down her head,

kneeling low, her hands still over her head.

“Prisoner,” said I, harshly, “on all fours.”

She assumed this position.

“Go to the place where you put the clothing,” I said to Lady Claudia, “by the

rope, the leash and collar, and wait there.”

(pg.247) Lady Claudia hurried to the place.

I then stood up and looked down at Lady Publia.

“Lift your head, prisoner,” I said.

She did so.

“Lift up one end of the rope,” I said to Lady Claudia.

She did so.

I them, abruptly, seized Lady Publia by the scrub of her dark hair and pulled

her, she crying out, half crawling, half being dragged, over to where Lady

Claudia waited. It was precisely so that the guard, earlier, had treated Lady

Claudia.

“Kneel here,” I said to Lady Publia, indicating the same spot where Lady Claudia

had knelt, “up, off your heels, your arms at your sides.”

Frightened, Lady Publia complied.

It was exactly in such a position that Lady Claudia had been knelt by the guard.

I then took the free end of the rope from Lady Claudia’s hand and, exactly as

she had been tied, with the many coils, beginning near her waist, began to bind

Lady Publia.

“What are you doing?” moaned Lady Publia.

“Put on her clothing,” I said to Lady Claudia. “Hurry.” The most recent assault

force, the third of the morning, had been recalled. This meant a lull. At such a

time men could be freed from the walls. Too, it was now late morning.

“What does she think she is doing!” demanded Lady Publia, outraged. “oh!”

“As I recall,” I said to Lady Publia, “you recommended that the ropes be made

tight.”

“Oh!” she said. Then suddenly, again. “Oh!” Then, “please,” she begged, “do not

make them so tight!” Then, Oh! Oh!” she said.

Then she was trussed.

“Your calves and ankles,” I said to Lady Claudia, “are as attractive as hers.”

Lady Claudia flushed with pleasure at my compliment. Then she said, delightedly,

touching the garment. “I have not worn clothes in days!” I smiled to myself. I

thought she might as well enjoy clothes, while she was permitted them.

“Now put on the veil, and wrap the cloth about your head, quickly,” I said, “as

she had them.”

(pg.248) “What it the meaning of this outrage!” demanded Lady Publia, squirming

in the ropes.

“That is very good,” I said to Lady Claudia. She, like Lady Publia, had dark

brown eyes. If one did not know Lady Publia personally, or if one did not know

her all that well, I did not think there would be any difficulty in Lady

Claudia’s being taken for her.

“What is this all about?” asked Lady Publia.

“Go to the fellows over there by the wall,” I said, “and cut free one of their

tunics. I need some cloth.”

Lady Claudia did so, using a belt knife, taken from one of the guards.

“What is this all about?” said Lady Publia, again, insistently, angrily.

I then put the collar about her neck. Its leash was already attached. She then

knelt there, as had Lady Claudia, leashed and collared.

“I do not understand!” said Lady Publia, angrily.

I stood up, and looked down at her. She was on her kneed, bound. She trembled.

Women understand that position.

In a moment Lady Claudia had rejoined me, carrying a good bit of cloth.

“Release me,” demanded Lady Publia.

“You are going to help us leave the citadel,” I told her.

“Never!” she said.

“I have a plan,” I said.

“Doubtless you think she can pass herself off as me,” she said, scornfully.

“I think so,” I said.

At that moment there was a great impact somewhere, perhaps a hundred feet away.

Lady Publia, bound at our feet, winced. There was a noise as the leash ring

moved on the collar ring.

“It is the artillery,” said Lady Claudia, shivering. “It has begun again!”

“She is pretty,” I said. “Perhaps Cosians might spare her.”

“I think so,” said Lady Claudia.

“Why do you speak so explicitly of Cosians?” asked Lady Publia suddenly,

apprehensively. “Am I not beautiful?”

“Yes,” I said. “you are.”

“Then would not anyone spare me?” she asked.

(pg.249) “Perhaps not just anyone,” I said.

“You understand, do you not, Lady Publia,” I said, “that there are many ways,

behavioral and psychological, in which one can determine whether or not a

woman’s bondage is meretricious?”

“Yes,” she said, frightened.

“Even so,” I said, “one might be found who might not choose to spare you.”

“What are you waiting here for?” asked Lady Publia, frightened. “Why do you not

run? Why do you not flee?”

“We are waiting for a caller,” I said.

“Who?” she asked, apprehensively.

“Surely you have not forgotten,” I said. “He was to have been along in a few

Ehn. I expect him in a bit, the assaults now having abated.”

“If she is to be me,” said Lady Publia, suddenly, frightened, looking at Lady

Claudia, wearing her former rags, veil and scarf, “what then is to be my role in

this farce?”

While we had been talking I had taken the cloth with Lady Claudia had brought

from the side earlier, that which she had cut from the tunic of one of the

guards, and had been tearing it here and there, and working with it.

“Can you not guess?” I asked.

“No!” she cried. “No!”

“Perhaps,” I said. I was now wadding one of the pieces of cloth into tight ball.

“Are you not a Cosian?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“What is your city?” she asked, frightened.

“Port Kar,” I said.

She suddenly turned white.

“Glory to Port Kar,” I said.

“Mercy!” she cried.

“Glory to Port Kar,” I said, regarding her, evenly.

“Glory to Port Kar!” she cried, desperately, fervently.