“Yes, Master,” I said.
“Your permission to speak is revoked,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
So I was not then to speak. He did not care for me to do so. It was then as before. I was silenced.
There were four more races, and in some there were as many twenty or thirty tharlarion encircling the long track as many as five times. The competitions were at times unruly, even violent, but no riders or beasts were lost. There are, of course, races of different length, and some beasts are favored in shorter races, and some in longer races, depending on differences in speed and stamina. It is similar with racing slaves, bred or otherwise, and kaiila. Some are superior at short distances, others at longer distances.
For the remainder of the day, to my relief, I was not left unattended. Either Astrinax, Lykos, or Master Desmond remained with me. When the Lady Bina went below to the tables, the shops, or such, she was always accompanied. I gathered that she was never to be left unattended. In this I suspected something of the will of Lord Grendel.
At the end of the day we were making our way from the tiers, descending toward the broad open area between the rail and the stands, from there to exit toward the wagon-and-cart yard, some adjacent inns, and some of the closer camps. Indeed, during the races, it is often crowded, for many prefer to watch from there, possibly for the better view of the beasts, and the greater proximity to the betting tables.
Debris was about, useless betting tickets, discarded programs, tasta sticks, food wrappers, and such. Such things would be cleaned up by male work slaves. I saw such a fellow, brawny, with a heavy collar on his neck. Such as I were not for such as he. To be sure, we might be cast to one or more, as a punishment, or, perhaps, put at the disposal of one, as a reward for, say, a successful fighting slave. Interestingly, we had the sense that such as they, even in their collars, were our masters. On Gor, I had the sense that, in some natural sense, perhaps in the order of nature, we belonged to men. Not all of us, of course, were owned, and collared.
I suddenly stopped, startled, and almost cried out, but realized I could not do so, as I had not received permission to speak.
“What is wrong?” asked Desmond.
I wanted to weep with elation. I jerked at the bracelets, holding my wrists behind me.
The two of them regarded me, disbelievingly.
Then, wisely or not, but unable to help ourselves, we rushed to one another, they in the brief blue-and-yellow tunics, the Slaver’s colors, the chain on their neck, joining them, and I.
They, too, had their small wrists pinioned behind their back, as was required of kajirae in the Vennan stadium.
But, weeping, sobbing with joy, we kissed one another, I them, and they me, again and again.
I realized, suddenly, that they, too, as I, did not have permission to speak. They, as I, doubtless in their training, had learned fear, and discipline. In my joy, overwhelmed with emotion, I had inadvertently fled from my heeling position, behind and to the left of he in whose charge I was, to approach them, but he did not rebuke me. I think all there were surprised, the Lady Bina, Master Desmond, Astrinax, and Lykos, and the keeper of the pair on the chain, with his switch, who was in his holiday regalia, that of the Slavers. Often enough, they wear dark robing or tunics, with only a small pair of chevrons visible, one blue, one yellow, on the left sleeve of their robe, near the wrist, to indicate their caste. Sometimes they do not identify their caste, as when, say, approaching free women.
We pulled futilely at the bracelets on our wrists; were it not for the obdurate impediments of masters imposed upon us, we would have doubtless embraced one another, joyfully.
As it was, tears streamed down our cheeks.
Perhaps it was the slaver who first saw fit to impose order on this small scene.
“Down!” he snapped, and his two barefoot charges, in their tiny tunics, immediately knelt, with their heads lowered.
How moving it was to see them as slaves!
And how well they had been trained!
And doubtless this was the first time they had seen me, as well, as what I now was, barefoot, tunicked, and collared, a slave.
“Let us see them,” said the Lady Bina.
“Lift your heads,” said the slaver, and his two charges complied, instantly.
“Pretty,” said Astrinax, appraisingly.
I noted that their knees were placed closely together. I wondered how long that would be permitted to them.
Our eyes met, those of the two slaves, and mine.
Each was nicely collared, the thin, flat band, encircling the neck, closely. Their collars would be fastened on them, the lock at the back of the neck.
Both were now kajirae, and lovely. I thought they were now even more attractive, as I thought myself to be, as well, than they had been before, in the house, in the sorority, on Earth.
“You may speak,” said the slaver to his charges.
“Allison!” they cried.
I looked wildly, piteously, at he in whose charge I was. “You may speak,” he said.
“Jane!” I cried. “Eve!”
“Get on your knees,” said he in whose charge I was.
I knelt, instantly.
“Jane, Jane!” I said. “Eve! Eve!”
“Allison!” they cried, joyfully.
Chapter Eighteen
The road here was narrow, and rough.
I looked up, at the stone channel of the aqueduct, some hundred feet over my head.
I do not think the road really has a name, or, if it does, I did not know it. It is called, however, like other such roads, the Aqueduct Road, for it follows the line of the aqueduct, to enable the approach of crews and service wagons, which tend regularly to the massive conduit, bringing fresh water from the snows and streams of the Voltai to Ar. This was the Vennan aqueduct, one of some five supplying the city.
Master Desmond had informed me that the Vennan aqueduct, the third longest, was some eight hundred and ten pasangs long.
Eve, Jane, and I were identically tunicked, as I had been before, in brief white rep cloth. Too, we now had identical collars. Given the roughness of the terrain, we were now sandaled. We were grateful for this.
We had left Venna four days ago.
“I cannot read my new collar, Master,” I had said to Master Desmond.
“No,” he said, “you are illiterate. I like you that way. It makes you more helpless.”
“A girl,” I said, “would like to know what is on her collar.”
“Come closer,” he said.
I then stood close to him, and lifted my chin, that he might the more easily read my collar.
“You seem uneasy,” he said.
“Master is very close,” I said.
“You are very close,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“You would like to know what is on your collar?”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“You may then,” he said, “petition me properly. Kneel, kiss my feet, and make your request.”
I knelt, and pressed my lips to his feet, and kissed them.
I was thrilled to do this, before this man. How right it seemed to me that I should be so before him. But what
