Renegades of Gor (65 page)

sisters, with which she hoped to bribe captors to spare her for a nose ring and

cord, she gave great attention to the readying of herself for a Cosian master.”

There was much laughter.

“And thus,” said the keeper, lifting the whip, “we think it is only appropriate

that her planning not have gone for naught. It is to a Cosian, some Cosian, that

she will be sold!”

Men, hearing this, slapped their thighs with pleasure. Slave girls, too,

laughed.

“I am a Cosian!” called out a fellow. He, to be sure, did not wear the

habiliments of Cos.

“Perhaps, then,” said the keeper, “yours will be the collar she will wear!”

(pg.432) “Perhaps,” he laughed.

“And this one,” said the keeper, indicating Claudia, “betrayed her compatriots,

declared for Cos and took Cosian gold for treason!”

“But she is a slave now?” called a man.

“Yes,” said he keeper.

“Traitress!” cried a fellow, angrily, one in the habiliments of Cos.

Claudia looked wildly at the keeper. He nodded. He would permit her to speak.

“I regret what I did!” cried Claudia. “And I am only a slave now! Please have

mercy on a slave!”

“She, too,” said the keeper, “it to be sold to a Cosian.”

“Traitress!” cried a Cosian. “Traitress!” cried another.

“perhaps I will buy you!” cried another. “The whips in my house lash hard!”

“I will try to be pleasing, Master!” she wept.

It was very hard to hear now. The drums and pipes aboard the Tais were sounding.

There was other music, too, here and there, from the piers, greeting other

ships. There was much shouting, and calling, and raillery, between the piers and

ships.

Aemilianus, pausing now and then to wave to the crowd, and partly supported by

Surilius, and most of those with him were conducted back from the bow deck.

Calliodorus, I suspected, had now left the stern castle and was awaiting his

friend, Aemilianus, amidships. Aemilianus, who had commanded at Ar’s Station, it

seemed, would be the first to disembark. I, and some others, including the young

warrior, Marcus, remained where we were. In a few moments, then, to drums and

pipes, and cheers, I saw Aemilianus, unsupported, but obviously weak, make his

own way down the gangplank. Behind him were Calliodorus and Surilius. Aemilianus

and Calliodorus, and other officers, were embraced by several fellows wearing

medallions of office at the foot of the gangplank.

Following this official party, so to speak, the refugees of Ar’s Station

disembarked, a few clutching tiny bundles containing meager belongings, and some

of their other belongings following timidly, on their own bare feet. Much of the

crowd, in a few Ehn, then, had followed the procession of (pg.433) officials and

officers, and refugees, and properties, from the wharf. Oars were inboard,

stowed. Oarsmen and sailors now, save for a watch, weapons and sea bags over

their shoulders, entering upon their leaves, and other fellows, their service

now discharged, passed down the gangplank. Reunions were common and often

demonstrative, those with relatives and friends, those of companions, those of

masters with eager, scantily clad, loving slaves. Much the same sort of thing

was occurring elsewhere, at other piers.

“It was a good voyage,” said the keeper, reaching out with a staff and hook to

draw Publia, by the chain from which her harness was suspended, close to the

rail.

“Yes,” I said.

When Publia had been drawn closer to the rail two other fellows reached out and

pulled her to the bow deck where they knelt her, in the shackles, in the

harness, still attached to the chain. In a moment he, and the others, similarly,

had retrieved Claudia and she, too, knelt on the bow deck.

“I gather,” said the keeper, “that you have had some relationship, or something

to do, with these two slaves.

“Yes,” I said.

“Slaves,” said the keeper.

“Yes, Master,” said Publia.

“Yes, Master,” said Claudia.

“You may bid him farewell,” said the keeper, “in a manner suitable for slaves.”

“I wish you well, Master,” said Publia, humbly, kneeling before me in her

shackles and harness, putting down her head, kissing my feet.

“I wish you well, slave,” I said.

Claudia then, too, as had Publia, was kneeling before me. She, too, put down her

head. “I, too, wish you well, Master,” she said. She then softly, delicately,

kissed my feet.

“I wish you well, slave,” I said.

The young warrior, Marcus, was not looking toward the piers, or the town,

ascending from the harbor. His attentions seemed to be outward, and back, toward

the entrance of the harbor.

I looked back to the pier. Here and there, lingering, some four or five of them,

were slave girls.

The keeper was now crouching by Publia. He freed her (pg.434) wrist shackles

from the chain and then her wrists from the shackles. He then pulled her small

wrists behind her back and locked them there, in slave bracelets. He then,

similarly, removed her ankle shackles from the chain and then freed her ankles

from the shackles themselves. He then removed her harness. He similarly handled

Claudia.

“You do not seem eager to see Port Cos,” I said to the young warrior.

“Where,” asked he, “do you think the northern forces of Ar are?”

“South of the river,” I said, “back, to the east, somewhere.”

“The expeditionary force of Cos will never be able to slip between then and the

river,” he said.

“Perhaps not,” I said.

“It would be impossible,” he said.

“Perhaps,” I said.

I turned about. A fellow had brought two slave hoods and a neck chain, it

appeared to be about five feet in length, terminating at each end with a collar.

I watched while Publia was turned about and set, kneeling, before the kneeling

Claudia. Claudia’s neck was the first locked in the collar. Publia appeared

apprehensive, but did not dare turn about. The second collar was locked on her

neck. The two slaves were now linked together. The chain was, indeed, some five

feet in length. Claudia’s eyes, frightened, met mine. Then she was hooded, and

the hood straps, beneath her chin, drawn snug, and buckled shut, behind the back

of her neck. In a moment Publia, too, similarly, had been hooded. Publia was

then drawn to her feet by an arm and conducted back, through the passage between

the starboard rail and the stem castle, back amidships, to the gangplank,

Claudia, responding to the cues of the chain, helpless in the hood, with tiny

steps, hurrying behind.

I looked toward the pharos, on the promontory. Its light at night could be see,

it was said, pasangs east and west on the river.

“What are you thinking of?” I asked the young warrior, Marcus.

“Of vengeance,” he said, bitterly, “and loyalty.”

“An odd juxtaposition of thoughts,” I commented.

I then turned about and watched Publia and Claudia, (pg.435) hooded, naked, on

their common chain, their wrists braceleted behind them, being herded along the

pier, among boxes and bales. Beyond the pier, abutting on harborside wharfage,

there were numerous buildings, mostly shops, such as those of sailmakers,

oarmakers and sawyers, and warehouses, and, here and there, between these

buildings, narrow streets, stretching up toward the city. I expected that they

would be herded up one of these streets to the house of some slaver or other.

They would have very little idea, at this time, of what Port Cos was like. Their

hoods would be removed, presumably, only in the slaver’s house. They would be

very helpless, and muchly disorientated. Later, perhaps never having been given

access to a window, or never having been outside unhooded, they would find

themselves auctioned. From that time on, what was permitted to them would be

determined by their master.

“I am angry,” said the young man, perhaps more to himself than to me.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“There are many things I do not understand,” he said.

“There are many things which none of us understand,” I said.

“I am bitter,” he said.

“Because war is not all nodding plumes and the sun flashing from silvered

shields?” I asked, recalling the words of Aemilianus.

“Perhaps,” he said.

I looked to the pier. There were still some slave girls there. I now saw three.

Two were bare-breasted.

“Put dark thoughts from you,” I said. “You have come safe to Port Cos. Rejoice.

See the city. Come, if you like, and sup with me. Let us see what Port Cos has

to offer in the way of enslaved females. She is noted, like Victoria, and

certain other towns, for excellent wares in that respect.”

“I thank you,” said he. “But go on without me.”

“You are a hero, and a warrior,” I said. “Surely you do not mind squeezing

luscious female flesh, branded and collared, in your arms.”

“Outrage a treachery and blood, and confusion, and hatred, are now in my

thoughts,” he said, “not the belled, perfumed bodies of female slaves.:

(pg.436) “Yes,” said I, “such are pleasant, crawling and licking about your feet

and legs, looking up at you, begging to please. Make use of them. Use them for

recreation. They are your due.:

“No,” said he.

“It is hard to suppose that you would not be pleased to see them dancing before

you, in the beads and chains of slaves.”

“It is on less pleasant things that my thoughts now dwell,” he said.

“For some,” I said, “you might give your purse, and even draw your sword, to

take them from the auction block.”

“I do not have such feelings now,” he said.

“Some,” I said, “the curvy little sluts, in their collars, can make you scream

with pleasure.”

He was silent, looking to the east.

“It is hard to lose ideals,” I said. “But sometimes one can purchase them back,

by deeds, in a new form.” I recalled the delta of the Vosk, I recalled

Torvaldsland.

He was silent.

“I wish you well,” I said.

“I wish you well,” he said.

I then went back, amidships, and gathered up a sea bag and a few articles, a

shaving knife, and such, which I had purchased on the ship from one or another

of the good fellows of Port Cos. Then, my blade over my shoulder, I lifted my

hand to the deck officer and took leave of the Tais.

I had scarcely set foot on the pier when the three girls came quickly forward,

and knelt down.

“Come to the Dina!” said the first. “All our girls are dinas!” She turned her

left thigh to me and drew up her tunic, showing me the dina brand. The dina is a

small, roselike flower. It is popularly called the “slave-flower.” The dina

brand, or slave-flower brand, is a common one on Gor.

“Come to the Veninium!” said the second. The veminium is a delicate,

five-petaled blue flower common in both the northern and southern hemispheres of

Gor. “We are not so expensive!” The use of the veninium, as a name for the

tavern, given the widely spread range of the flower was perhaps supposed to

suggest affordable beauty. The second and the third girls were the one who were

bare-breasted.

(pg.437) “My master’s tavern is the Larma!” said the third.

I smiled. The larma is luscious. It has a rather hard shell but the shell is

brittle and easily broken.

Within, the fleshy endocarp, the fruit, is delicious, and very juicy. Sometimes,

when a woman is referred to as a “larma,” it is suggested that her hard or

frigid exterior conceals a rather different sort of interior, one likely to be

quite delicious. Once the shell has been broken through or removed, irrevocably,

there is, you see, exposed, soft, vulnerable, juicy and helpless, the interior,

in the fruit, the fleshy endocarp, in the woman, the slave.

“Are all the paga taverns in Port Cos named for flowers or fruits?’ I asked.

“No!” laughed the first.

“Surely there is a connection,” I said, “through ownership or tradition?”

“Many towns have a tavern of dinas, Master,” said the first.

“That is true,” I granted her.

“’Veminium’ is a pretty name,” said the second.

“True,” I said. “Incidentally, what is the point of the name? Is it to suggest

that the girls there, like the veminia, are cheap and pretty?”

The second girl, she from the Veminium, gasped, suddenly, laughing, putting her

hand before her Mouth. “I do not know!” she said, looking at the others,

scandalized, laughing. “I never thought of it! Perhaps, Master!”

“And are all the girls there cheap and pretty?” I asked.

“I think we are pretty,” she laughed. “I do not know if we are so cheap.”

I smiled. I had wondered if perhaps the name had not been chosen more to lure

fellows inward, than to supply an objective assessment of the commercial

competitiveness of the contained services and merchandise.

“There are many paga taverns in Port Cos, Master,” said the first. “Not all are

named for flowers or fruits. There is the Cage, the Jewels of Telnus,

Artemidorus’ Cargo, the Secret Basement, the Hold, the Scarlet Whip, the Tavern

of the Collar of the Two Chains, and many others.”

“I am pleased to hear it,” I said. “I take it that you are all friends.”

“Yes, Master,” said the first.

(pg.438) “The Veminium and the Larma are owned by brothers,” said the first.