“What then?” I said.
“The Lady Bina is sleeping,” he said.
I could hear nothing, but I gathered that the beast had no difficulty in making this determination.
“I will now explain to you what you are to do,” said the beast.
“Master?” I said.
“You understand that you are a female slave,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said. On Gor, I had no doubt of that.
“And how is a female slave to obey?” he asked.
“Instantly, unquestioningly,” I said, “and, to the best of her ability, with perfection.”
“If you obey with perfection,” he said, “you will not be hurt. If you do not obey with perfection, you will undoubtedly die a quick and most unpleasant death. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“You will not wear your kerchief,” he said. “In that way, your head bare, you will not be confused with a free woman.”
“I do not understand,” I said.
“As a collar girl, I know you are vain,” he said.
“I am a woman,” I said.
“Your hair,” he said, “is still quite short, but, over the months, it is not badly grown out. And some masters have their girls wear it that way, that the girl, and others, may understand that every aspect of their appearance is at the master’s discretion.”
I supposed such girls would beg, and perform desperately, that their hair might be permitted to grow “slave long.”
“I do not understand what is going on,” I said.
“Your hair is now attractive,” he said.
“How would Master know?” I asked.
“You are no longer permitted to wear the kerchief, unless given explicit permission,” he said.
I was silent.
“You are a pretty slave, Allison,” he said. “If you were also helpless in the furs, you might go for better than a silver tarsk.”
I was silent.
“Your helplessness would doubtless be assessed,” he said, “before you were brought to the block. Buyers are interested in such things. One wants not only a pretty girl, but a hot girl.”
“Oh?” I said.
“One uncontrollably hot, helplessly hot,” he said.
“I do not think I am ‘hot’,” I said.
“Coolness, inertness, and such, are acceptable in a free woman,” he said, “but not in a female slave.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“I will now explain what you are to do,” he said.
“Why have I not been chained?” I asked.
“Because,” said he, “you are leaving, almost immediately.”
“Surely not, Master,” I said.
“But, yes,” he said.
“It is night,” I said. “It is after curfew.”
“You will go into the streets, alone,” he said, “and do precisely what I shall explain to you.”
“There are guardsmen,” I said.
“You must elude them,” he said.
“I do not know what is out there, in the darkness,” I said.
“If you obey properly,” he said, “I think you will learn.”
He then rubbed his heavy paw about my head, my neck, and shoulders, and drew me against his side, and then put me from him.
“Master?” I said.
“If all goes well,” said he, “you will not have to groom me after this.”
“As Master pleases,” I said.
“You do not do it all that well,” he said.
“I am sorry,” I said.
“Perhaps,” he said, “you are curious as to why I have required that service from you so frequently of late.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“You cannot smell it,” he said, “but my scent is now muchly upon you.”
“I know nothing of these things, Master,” I said. “Be merciful to me! I am only a poor slave, a thigh-marked girl, nothing, a beast, a property, only another poor, helpless kajira, fastened in her collar.”
“Be pleased you are collared,” he said. “It is that which I anticipate will save your life.”
“Keep me here until morning,” I said. “Chain me, chain me!”
“Here are your instructions,” he said.
Chapter Fifteen
I heard footsteps, and crouched down, small, in the doorway.
Shortly the guardsmen, with their lantern, had passed. There were not many guardsmen about, after curfew, but this was the second pair I had encountered, on the way to the market of Cestias.
“I will not speak what I saw,” I had said to the beast in the domicile.
“I know you will not,” he had said.
I had learned his scent was on me, and I was sure I might be followed, in the darkness, as easily as by a sleen. Too, I had little doubt that my slightest footfall might be marked by the hearing of the beast.
I feared he wanted me to proceed some distance from the shop of Epicrates, and then, when I was far enough away, away from the neighborhood of the shop, he might appear from the side, about a corner, or drop down beside me, from a roof, and, before I could cry out, bite through the back of my neck. I supposed, were I clever enough, I would have remained in the doorway of the shop of Epicrates, forcing him to kill me on the premises, or to refrain from doing so, for the proximity to his own domicile. Too, I thought of surrendering myself to the guardsmen, and accepting the consequences, whatever they might be, for violating the curfew.
“I know you will not,” he had said.
How could he know that, if he were not going to assure himself of it, with, say, a swift blow, a grasping paw on the throat, an embrace which might break a back?
The tiniest sound, the scuttling of an urt, the fluttering of a vart, come over the walls from the countryside, almost made me scream with fear.
I could not escape from the city at night, for the closure of the gates. Might I not hide by a gate, and then run when it was opened?
Could I traverse a hundred paces before being pulled down by boys?
I feared to inform on the beast, for it might escape, and seek me out. Too, oddly, I did not want to inform on him. I had agreed that I would not speak of what I had seen. Why had I done that?
I knew what I was to do, elude guardsmen, and go to the market of Cestias, near the praetor’s platform near the coin stalls.
But what then?
The market would be deserted at this hour, and ill-lit, if lit at all. Certainly the goods, the currencies, and such, would be withdrawn and locked away.
There were few in the streets, and they were furtive, indeed. And I suspected this had less to do with the curfew, than with the fear of what might be loose in the streets, moving in the darkness.
