her right. The three whip slaves then again climbed to the block. By this time the bids had increased to two hundred and forty. There were some cries of protest, perhaps from less-affluent bidders, that the girls were not of High Caste.
The auctioneer then motioned to the whip slave who stood behind Virginia. He drew her left wrist behind her back and snapped it into the slave bracelet, thus confining both wrists behind her. Then he, pulling at the shoulders of her livery, jerked it down to her waist. This pleased the crowd. There was a bid of two hundred and fifty then for the lot. The auctioneer then signaled the whip slaves and the girls rotated their position, bringing Phyllis to the front of the block. There, she, like Virginia, was similarly secured and revealed. The bids increased to two hundred and seventy-five gold pieces. Then the girls rotated again and this time Elizabeth stood at the center of the block.
'It appears,' said the auctioneer, 'that this was once a wench of Tuchuks.'
The crowd grunted its approval. The Tuchuks, one of the distant Wagon Peoples, tend to be, to those of northern Gor, a people of mystery and intrigue; to those of the southern plains, of course, they tend to be little more than efficient, fierce and dreaded foes.
'Can you guess,' asked the auctioneer, 'which of the three slaves is Red Silk?'
The crowd roared with amusement.
'Doubtless,' called the auctioneer, 'her Tuchuk master used her well.'
The crowd laughed.
At this point, savagely, Elizabeth spat into the face of the auctioneer.
The crowd screamed with amusement, but the auctioneer did not seem much pleased. Angrily, he motioned back the whip slave, who stood behind the girl, and then he himself threw her hands cruelly behind her back and snapped shut the slave bracelets, thus himself confining her.
'You have pleased ignorant herders,' he said. 'Now, we shall see if you can please the men of Ar.'
So saying, he himself stripped her to the waist before the crowd.
Elizabeth was beautiful. The placement of her wrists, of course, like that of the other girls was not accident. It is done so that there be no impediment to the vision of the buyers.
I found I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss the slave rouge from her mouth. I suppose my response were not much different from those of other men in the crowd.
'Three hundred gold pieces!' called a rich man of Ar.
The crowd shouted its approval of the bid.
'Three hundred and five,' said the professional Slaver from Tor.
'Three hundred and ten!' announced the Slaver who wore upon his shoulder the sign of Tyros.
The auctioneer looked into the crowd. 'Is not Samos,' he asked, 'First Slaver of Port Kar with us this evening?'
All eyes turned to one of the boxes near the front of the block.
There, slumped in a marble chair, was an indolent figure, yet indolent as is the satisfied beast of prey. About his left shoulder he wore the knotted ropes of Port Kar; his garment was simple, dark, closely woven; the hood was thrown back revealing a broad, wide head, close-cropped white hair; the face was red from windburn and salt; it was wrinkled and lined, cracked like leather; in his ears there were two small golden rings; in him I sensed power, experience, intelligence, cruelty; I felt in him the presence of the carnivore, at the moment not inclined to hunt, or kill.
'He is,' said the man.
This Slaver had not yet made a bid.
'Show me the women,' said Samos.
The crowd shouted with pleasure.
The auctioneer bowed low to Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar.
Almost instantly, by the whip slaves, the three barbarian beauties from the House of Cernus were revealed to the buyers of Ar.
The crowd rose to its feet shouting and stamping, drowning out what bids might have been made.
How beautiful were the three women, the slaves.
When the tumult subsided, the voice of Samos was heard again.
'Remove the bracelets.'
This was done and the whip slaves retired, taking with them the bracelets which had confined the lovely commodities that now graced the block of Ar.
The crowd shouted and roared, and stamped its feet.
The girls stood in the light, lifting their heads to the crowd, nude and proud on the block, in the wild shouting and stamping and crying out, and knew themselves beautiful and prized. How marvelous and female they seemed, the three slaves, in that moment.
There were perhaps dozens of bids that were shouted forth and lost in the acclaim of the crowd. I managed to hear one bid for four hundred pieces of gold. At last, once again the crowd subsided.
Again the auctioneer looked to the box of Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar.
'Does noble Samos now care to express interest?' inquired the auctioneer.
'Let them perform,' said Samos.
Again the auctioneer bowed to Samos. The crowd shouted with delight.
'Shall Pleasure Silks be brought?' inquired the auctioneer.
'No,' said Samos.
Again the crowd roared its pleasure.
The Musicians took up their instruments and, together, as three slaves, women who would be owned by men, the girls danced.
In the crowd men cried out with pleasure; I heard even gasps from women, perhaps amazingly, startled that their sex was capable of such beauty; the eyes of some of the women shone with ill-concealed admiration and excitement; I could mark the quickness of their breath in their veils; the eyes of others seemed terrified, and, shrinking, they looked from the block about themselves, suddenly fearing the men with whom they shared the tiers; I heard the tearing of a veil and heard a girl scream and turned to see her lips being raped by the kiss of a Warrior, and then she was yielding to him; the crowd went wild; here and there there was the cry of a woman in the throng who was seized by those near her; one girl tried to flee and was dragged screaming by the ankle to the foot of a tier; another woman, with her own hands, tore away her veil and seized in her hands the head of a man near her, pressing her lips to his, and in a moment, she lay, robes torn, in his arms, weeping, crying with pleasure.
Four dances the girls danced while the crowd screamed and roared, and then, at an instant, their dances ended, they stood suddenly motionless, splendid, animal, magnificent, inciting.
Then they, breathing deeply, stained with sweat, stepped back on the block, and the auctioneer stepped forward.
He did not even call for a bid.
'Five hundred gold pieces!' called the rich man of Ar.
'Five hundred and twenty!' called the Slaver of Tor.
'Five hundred and thirty!' called another man.
'Five hundred and thirty-five!' called the Slaver from Tyros.
The auctioneer turned then to the box of Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar.
'Does noble Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar, jewel and mistress of the sea, not care to express interest in these unworthy wenches? Would they not cheer the heart of a seaman returned from long at sea?'
There was laughter from the crowd.
'Would such not be pleased to be served his paga by such as these? Would he not care to see them dance for him? Would the sight of them, eager, lips lifted, in the shadows of a tavern's alcoves, not soothe his weary eyes aching from the sun and salt of gleaming Thassa?'
The crowd roared with laughter. But Samos did not speak. His eyes revealed no expression.
'Would they not be a fitting gift for the palace of the very Ubar of Port Kar, beautiful jewel and mistress of gleaming Thassa?'
The crowd was silent.
Inwardly I raged, but too I was overcome with horror, for I could not allow even in my imagination that the girls might be sold to one of Port Kar. Never has a slave girl escaped from canaled Port Kar, protected on one side by the interminable, rush-grown delta of the Vosk, on the other by the broad tides of the Tamber Gulf, and beyond it, the vast, blue, gleaming, perilous Thassa. It is said that the chains of a slave girl are heaviest in Port Kar. Perhaps nowhere on Gor would the slavery of a girl be so complete, so abject, as in squalid, malignant Port Kar. I would not admit to myself, even in speculation, that such a fate might befall the helpless prizes now upon the block of Ar, years of miserable, unrelieved servitude, to live at the beck and call of masters among the most cruel of Gor, existing only to give pleasure to one to whom they would be always nothing, only slave.
'I do not choose now to bid,' said Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar.
The auctioneer smiled and bowed low.
'Five hundred and forty gold pieces!' cried the rich man of Ar, and the crowd cheered its approval of the bid.
Then there was silence.
'I am offered five hundred and forty gold pieces for these hot-blooded barbarian beauties,' called the auctioneer, 'only five hundred and forty gold pieces for this exquisite set of animals, in prime condition and superbly trained to tantalize you, to torment you, to drive you wild with pleasure! Do I hear more? Come now, gentle brothers and sisters of Ar, when again will such superb creatures be yours to ensteel for only a paltry sum of golden coin!'
There was laughter from the crowd.
'Five hundred and forty-five,' growled the Slaver from Tyros.
The crowd greeted the bid with pleasure, but then it seemed quiet.
The auctioneer looked from face to face, and there were no more bids forthcoming.
He lifted his hand, palm up, open, to the crowd. If he closed his fist it meant he had accepted the bid.
