I found myself pulling at my bonds, suddenly aching with an inexplicable loneliness and desire. I pulled at the fiber that bound my wrists, so cruelly back; my throat pressed against the straps on my throat, almost choking me; my belly writhed under its strap; my ankles moved again one another, helpless in the leather confinement of the knotted strap. I looked up at the moons. I cried out in anguish. I wanted to be free, to dance, to cry out, to claw the moons, to throw myself on the living, fibrous, flowing grass, to writhe with these women, my sisters, to writhe with them in the frenzy of their need.
No, I cried out to myself, no, no! I am Elinor Brinton! I am of Earth! No, no! 'Kajirae!' I screamed at them. 'Kajirae!' 'Slaves! Slaves!'
There was no fear in my voice, but almost hysterical triumph! 'Slaves!' I screamed at them. 'Slaves!' I then knew myself better that they! I was superior! I was above them! Though I was bound and branded I was a thousand times greater and finer than they. I was Elinor Brinton! Though I might be stripped, though I might be tied to a slave post, I was greater and finer, and of nobler stock, than they. They were naught but slaves.
'Kajirae!' I screamed at them. 'Kajirae!' Slaves! Slaves!'
They paid me no attention.
I cried out at them hysterically, and then was quiet. My limbs ached, particularly my arms, tied so cruelly back, but I was not displeased. The moons fled across the black sky, burning with its bright stars. The girls lay now quietly on the grass, some still whimpering slightly, many with their eyes closed, some lying on their stomachs, their face pressed against the grass, the stain of tears on their cheek, mingling into the grass. It was colder now, and I felt chilly, but I did not mind. I was now, though bound and stripped, well pleased with myself. I had regained my self-respect. I now knew myself superior to such women, to such despicable things, as these. At last the girls, one by one, rose from the grass, drew on again their skins, and took up their weapons.
Then, Verna at their lead, they approached me.
I knelt by the post, very straight.
'It seemed to me,' I said, 'that your bodies moved as might have those of slave girls.'
My head leaped to the side, stinging, as Verna, with all her might, slapped me. Then she looked at me. 'We are women,' she said.
There were tears in my eyes. I tasted a bit of blood in my mouth, where my lip had been struck against my teeth. But I did not cry out or whimper. I smiled. Then I looked away.
'Let us kill her,' said one of the girls, she who held my leash before, who had been he first to enter the circle of the dance.
'No,' said Verna.
Verna looked about at the other girls.
They were ready to depart.
'Bring the slave,' said Verna.
'I am free,' I told her.
Verna strode from the area wherein was found the circle of the dance. The other girls followed her, with the exception of the blond girl, who had held my leash. She untied my hands and then, behind my body, but not behind the post, rebound them, cruelly. I did not complain. Then she untied the strap at my ankles, freeing them, and drawing the strap about the post and through the two rings, released me from the post. By the choke leash she pulled me to my feet. I looked at her and smiled. She said nothing, but turned angrily away, and led me from the post, following Verna and her band.
Verna suddenly lifted her hand.
'Sleen,' she whispered.
The girls looked about.
I was apprehensive. I wondered if it were the same animal which Verna, and one of the other girls, had detected earlier. The girls, too, seemed apprehensive. I hoped that it was not the same animal. If it was, it had been following us. There are, of course, many sleen in the forests.
The girls remained still for a long time, scarcely breathing.
'Is it still here?' asked one of the girls, the one who had been able to detect the sleen earlier. Her nostrils were flared, testing the air.
'Yes,' said Verna. She gestured in a direction somewhat forward of the band and to its oblique right. 'It is there,' she said. I could see nothing but the darkness of the trees, and the shadows.
We continued to stand still for some time.
Then, after this time, Verna said, 'It is gone.'
The girls looked at one another. I could tell the difference in their breathing. I took a deep breath, and shuddered. I looked again into the darkness, the trees and shadows, to the right. Then I felt the leather and metal choke collar again slide shut on my throat and, choking, I followed hurriedly at my tether.
After the trek of perhaps an hour we came to a clearing in the forest. In the clearing, there was a small hut, a stave house, with a single door and window. Inside there was a light.
I was led to the door of this house.
'Kneel,' said Verna.
I did so.
I was apprehensive. I knew this must be the house of the man who had purchased me.
But I could not be purchased, for I was Elinor Brinton, a free woman, of Earth. No matter what bonds I might wear, no matter what transactions in which I might figure, I could not be purchased, for I was free!
There was a leather bag, on two leather strings, which hung from a hook outside the door.
There was no sound from within the house.
Verna removed the bag from its hook and knelt down on the ground, the other girls around her. She shook the contents of the bag on the ground. It contained steel arrow points. She counted them in the light of the moons. There were one hundred of them.
Verna gave six points to each of her girls. Ten she kept for herself. She, and they, put the points into the pouches they wore at their belts.
I looked at her, shaking my head, not believing what I had seen. Could it be that this, and this alone, was my price, that I had been purchased for only this, the points for one hundred arrows? But I reminded myself that I could not be purchased, for I was Elinor Brinton, for I was free!
'Rise, Slave,' said Verna.
I rose to my feet and she unsnapped from my throat the hated choke leash. I looked at her. 'I am free,' I told her.
'Let us kill her,' urged the blond girl, she who had held my leash. 'All right,' said Verna.
'No!' I cried. 'No! Please!'
'Kill her,' said Verna.
Uncontrollably I feel to my knees before her. 'Please don't kill me!' I cried. 'Please! Please!' I trembled. I wept. I pressed my head to her feet. 'Please!' I begged. 'Please!' Please! Please! Please!'
'What are you?' asked Verna.
'A slave,' I cried out. 'A slave!'
'Do you beg for your life?' asked Verna.
'Yes,' I whimpered 'Yes, yes!'
'Who begs for her life?' asked Verna.
'A slave begs her mistress for her life,' I wept.
'Is it only slaves who so beg for their lives?' asked Verna.
'Yes,' I cried out, 'Yes!'
'Is it only slaves who so beg and grovel?' asked Verna.
'Yes!' I cried out. 'Yes!'
'Then you are a slave,' said Verna.
'Yes!' I cried.
'You then acknowledge yourself a slave?' Verna inquired.
'Yes!' I cried. 'Yes! I acknowledge myself a slave! I am a slave! I am a slave!' 'Spare the slave,' said Verna.
I almost collapsed. Two of the girls lifted me to my feet. I could scarcely stand.
I was shattered.
I then knew as I had not known before, that I was a slave. I was not free. I knew then that the body of Elinor Brinton, even when she had been in college, even when she had concerned herself with the trivia of term papers, even when she had eaten in Parisian restaurants, when she had strolled the boulevards of the continent, when in New York she had stepped from and into taxis, had been the body of a slave girl. That body, attired in its evening gowns, its cocktail dresses, its chic tweeds, might perhaps have been more appropriate clad in the brief silk of a Gorean slave girl, fit only for the controlling touch of a master. I wondered if men had realized that. If there had been Gorean men who had looked upon me I had little doubt that they might, smiling, have seen me thus. But I hated men!
I wondered what price my body would bring in a market.
I wondered what price I would bring.
I was shattered.
My eyes met those of Verna.
'Slave,' she sneered.
'Yes, Mistress,' I whispered, and looked down. I could not meet her eyes, those of a free woman.
'Are you a docile slave?' she asked.
'Yes, Mistress,' I said, quickly, frightened, 'I am a docile slave.' 'Docile slave,' she sneered.
'Yes,' I said, 'yes, Mistress.'
The girls laughed.
