Mariners of Gor

“You did not sell for much,” I said.

“Beast!” she said.

“What is your brand?” I asked. I could not determine this for her tunic. Too, there was little light in my cell, only that from the small lamp, on its chains, slung from the ceiling outside the bars, moving with the movement of the ship, outside the opened gate.

“The kef,” she said, angrily.

“There you have it,” I said. “The kef is for pot girls, for kettle-and-mat girls, for common slaves.”

“Even the most beautiful,” she snapped, “may wear the kef.”

I smiled. “That is true,” I said. “Men often enjoy putting even the most beautiful in the kef, that they may keep in mind that they are only slaves.”

“Am I not beautiful?” she asked.

“I would put you in the middle range of slaves,” I said. “You would not likely be either the first nor the last put on the block.” It is not unusual for slavers to save the best merchandise for late in the sale, when late comers are present, the audience is settled in, interest has been whetted, emotions are running high, purses are most open, and so on. This is not a universal practice, however, as one is likely to make less on early sales. A clever mix of goods is perhaps the most common manner of staging a sale. On the other hand, I think it does not really make much difference, as the merchandise is commonly available for inspection, though through bars, in pre-sale exposition cages. One may then note the goods of interest to one, by their lot numbers, usually inscribed in grease pencil on the left breast, and then wait until they stand in the sawdust, high on the block, exhibited to the house, under torchlight. To be sure, one can be mistaken. Sometimes an item which appears promising in the exposition cage may prove less interesting on the block, and sometimes an item scarcely noticed in the exposition cage will enflame a battle of bids, much to the pleasure and profit of the house. On the other hand, one cannot really measure these matters with scales or marked sticks. Many are the mysteries herein contained. Some men will kill for a woman another might ignore, and some women who might seem to be outstandingly beautiful may not attract much attention. There are doubtless cues, latencies, subtleties, and specificities in such cases which are difficult to identify, let alone quantify. They are, however, undeniably real.

“I am incredibly beautiful!” she insisted.

“You are not a bad-looking slave,” I granted her.

“May I withdraw?” she asked.

“How did you come here?” I asked.

“I am not fully sure,” she said.

“Who purchased you?” I asked.

“It was done through agents,” she said, “but at the behest of strange men, quiet men, sedate men, softly spoken men, men carrying unusual weapons, men with strange eyes.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“They are spoken of as Pani,” she said.

“Strange eyes?” I said.

“To us,” she said.

“Tuchuks?” I asked.

“I do not think so,” she said. “There are at least three hundred on board, perhaps many more.”

“I was not brought aboard by such,” I said.

“There are many others, too,” she said, “of Ar, Cos, Tyros, the further islands, even Besnit, Harfax, and Thentis.”

It was a pirate crew, mixed, without Home Stones, and such, I had speculated earlier.

“Some fifty such as I,” she said, “were exhibited and bought, and, chained, taken by galley north, to the great forests. We were thence marched overland, in coffle, and then, on rafts, floated across the Alexandra. There, in separate groups, unacquainted with one another, we were kept, dieted and exercised, in special palisaded enclaves.”

“You were put at the pleasure of men,” I said.

“No,” she said.

“Interesting,” I said.

“This deprivation,” she said, “caused much distress to some of our number, who might weep in their kennels, scratch at the logs in the yard, beseech guards for their touch, and roll in the dirt, in frustration.”

“In their bellies,” I said, “slave fires had been lit.”

“Doubtless,” she said.

“But not in yours?”

“Certainly not,” she said, angrily.

“After months,” she said, “we were braceleted, coffled, and hooded, and brought back across the Alexandra on boats. We were then, helplessly, embarked on this great boat. Only once have I been allowed on the top deck. This is a vast, floating thing.”

“Who is in charge here,” I asked, “and what is the destination of this voyage, and what is its purpose?”

“The Pani,” she said, “clearly. It is their vessel. I do not know its destination, perhaps the farther islands, surely not beyond. And I do not know what might be the purpose of the voyage.”

“You know little,” I said.

“It seems,” she said, “that curiosity is not becoming to us.”

“Perhaps only the Pani, whoever they might be, know,” I said.

“I think so,” she said.

“Why do you think that such as you have been cargoed?” I asked.

“We are women,” she said. “I suppose we are to be sold.”

“Perhaps,” I said, “there is a market, somewhere, for women of your appearance, with your sort of eyes.”

“Perhaps,” she said.

“To be sure,” I said, “you might also be distributed as gifts.”

“Of course,” she said. “We are women.”

“Precisely,” I said.

“But there are female slaves on the ship which are at the public use of the crew, and private slaves, as well.”

“You were brought on board hooded?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “As might have been verr or tarsks.”

“And there are others,” I said, “as you, but whom you have not seen.”

“That is my surmise,” she said. “I think so, from the sound of the coffle chains, the number of boats used, and such.”

“Before I was brought on board,” I said, “I heard the scream of a tarn, this far from land, in the fog.”

“There are tarns on board,” she said.

“Many?” I asked.

“Several,” she said.

“Why?” I asked.

“I do not know,” she said. “Such as we are not privy to the projects of masters.”

I regarded her.

She was uneasy. She wished to withdraw.

I continued to regard her.

“Is Master pleased?” she said.

“You are not really bad looking,” I said.

“A slave is flattered,” she said, bitterly.

“There are many better,” I said, “of course.”

“Doubtless,” she said.

“You might have some possibilities,” I said.

“Possibilities?” she said.