“But we have not finished our chat,” I said.
“Release me,” she said. “What if someone should see me as I am?”
“What is your role here?” I asked.
“Surely you do not expect me to speak,” she said.
“As you wish,” I said.
My hands tightened at the neckline of her garment.
“Do not!” she said. “You are of the warriors. You have codes. I am free, a free woman! I am not to be touched! I am to be treated with respect and dignity! I am not a slave! I am a free woman!”
I removed my hands from her garment, and stepped back.
“Now untie me,” she said.
I left her bound.
She did have nice legs. Such women put a strain on the codes.
“I think,” I said, “that you are indeed a free woman, but, you must remember, you are one of Earth, not Gor. There is a considerable difference. For example, you have no Home Stone.”
“What is a Home Stone?” she said.
“Surely you have heard of them,” I said.
“Yes,” she said, “but I do not understand them.”
“I am not surprised,” I said.
She pulled at the bonds.
“Do not look at me like that!” she said.
“Do you not know how appealing to a man is the sight of a bound woman?” I asked. “Masters not unoften bind their slaves and order them to squirm. The slave then is well reminded of her dependency and helplessness. And the master, for his part, now knows the slave is wholly his, prostrate at his mercy, and he finds this pleasant, and stimulating. Too, the woman is aroused, as well, and knowing herself helpless, and wholly in the master’s power, is soon beside herself with readiness. This has much to do with dominance/submissive ratios, which are pervasive in nature. Too, much can be accomplished along these lines by merely dressing the woman as one pleases, and seeing to her obedience and service. The master/slave relationship is extensive and complex. It is not all a matter of putting the slave to one’s pleasure, though, to be sure, without that it is nothing.”
She then stood very still.
“Yes,” I said. “Women such as you strain the codes.”
“I am free,” she said. “Free!”
“Yes,” I said, “you are a free woman, but one of Earth. You do not have the status of a Gorean free woman. Compared to a Gorean free woman, sheltered by her Home Stone, secure within her walls, complacent in the unquestioned arrogance of her station, the women of Earth do not even understand what it is to be free. The Gorean free woman is glorious in her freedom. The free women of Earth are no more than the sort of women that Gorean slavers think nothing of enslaving. They see the women of Earth not as free women, but only as slaves who have not yet been put in their collars.”
“I am a woman of Earth!” she said.
“Precisely,” I said.
“Monster!” she said.
“But it is true,” I said, “that you are a free woman of Earth, at least as far as those women can be free, and thus that my codes, though the matter is controversial, much depending on interpretations, do suffice to give me pause.”
“Excellent,” she said. “Now release me.”
“But you have not yet explained your role here,” I said, “nor that of Pertinax.”
“Nor is it my intention to do so,” she said.
“Very well,” I said.
“Untie me,” she said.
I turned about, and looked out to sea. I was now sure of it. What had been hitherto no more than a dot on the horizon, perhaps no more than a sea bird resting on the waves, even sleeping, as they do, was now clearly, though still small, and far off, a sail.
“There is a ship,” I said, shading my eyes.
“There have been such ships,” she said, straining her eyes, pulling against her bonds, looking outward, toward the horizon.
“One came in yesterday,” I said, “from which were disembarked, following the surmises of Pertinax, your subordinate, and not master, bandits, brigands, or such.”
“Untie me! Untie me, swiftly!” she begged.
I wondered if an agent, or agents, of Priest-Kings might be aboard that vessel, now so far off, now seeming so tiny.
“Untie me, now!” she cried.
“As you are a free woman,” I said, “even though one of Earth, I have treated you with some circumspection. In the codes such matters are gray, for it is commonly supposed that a Home Stone would be shared. If you were a slave, of course, whether of Earth or not, the matter would not even come up. Too, as you may not understand, even a Gorean free woman is expected to show a fellow respect, as another free person. If she insults him, belittles him, ridicules him, or treats him in any way which he deems improper or unbecoming, sometimes even to the glance, depending on the fellow, she is considered as having put away the armor of her status, and may be dealt with as the male sees fit. This is particularly the case if there is no shared Home Stone. Other situations are also regarded as ones in which the woman has voluntarily, or inadvertently, divested herself of the social and cultural mantles usually sufficient to protect her freedom and honor, such as walking the high bridges at night, undertaking dangerous expeditions or voyages, traversing lonely areas of a city, entering into a paga tavern, and so on.”
“There is a ship there!” she said. “I can see it clearly!”
“Yes,” I said.
“Can they see us?” she asked, desperately.
“Perhaps,” I said. “They may have a glass of the Builders.”
“If they see me here,” she cried, “half naked, bound, collared, what will they do with me?”
“Put you on a chain, of course,” I said.
“But I am free!” she said.
“Perhaps for the better part of an Ahn, or so,” I said.
“I am free,” she said. “Your codes! Your codes! You must protect me!”
“My codes do not require that,” I said.
“You would not leave me here as I am!” she cried.
“You are mistaken,” I said. “That is precisely what I will do.”
I then turned away, to withdraw into the forest.
“Wait!” she begged. “Wait!”
I turned to face her.
“I will speak, I will speak!” she cried.
“As you will,” I said.
“Untie me!” she cried. “Let us hide! They can see us here. They may have already seen us here.”
“Possibly,” I said.
“Untie me!” she begged, wildly.
“Speak first,” I said.
“We were brought here, Pertinax and I, by a disk craft, and told to wait for you,” she wept. “We were to encounter you, and show you hospitality, and then conduct you into the forest, to a rendezvous. Pertinax knows the place. He has been there. The trail is marked.”
“What sort of rendezvous,” I asked, “with whom, and to what purpose?”
“I know little,” she said, “save that they would enlist your services.”
“My services are not easily enlisted,” I said.
“They will have a hold over you,” she said. “A woman.”
“What woman?” I asked.
