where I would be locked, alone.
'Why am I never belled and put in dancing silk?' I demanded of Ute. I could scarcely believe that it was I, Elinor Brinton, who so protested. Yet I heard the words. 'Why am in never allowed, late, to serve the men in their tents?'
'No man has called for you,' said Ute.
And so I, my work tunic removed, would be locked in the shed at night. I would lie there and, through the crack beneath the heavy plank door, hear the music, the laughing, protesting screams of the girls, the laughter, the shouts of satisfaction, of victory of the men.
But no man had called for me. No man wanted me.
How pleased I was to be spared the ignominious usage to which the other girls, my unfortunate peers, were subjected! How I pitied them. How I rejoiced that I did not share their fate. I screamed with rage, and taking up handfuls of dirt, hurled it against the interior walls of the shed, within which I was locked. At the third or fourth hour of the morning, one by one, the girls, their silks now removed, would be returned to the shed. How stimulated they seemed, how untried. How they laughed and talked to one another! How vital they seemed! We had work the next day! Why did they not go to sleep? One would sing or hum to herself. Another would cry out some name, that of a tarnsman, to herself with pleasure. 'Ah, Rim,' she would cry out, twisting in the darkness, 'I am truly your slave!'
I pounded my fists in the dirt, angry.
But they would be exhausted in the morning! In the morning they would be miserable enough! In the morning Ute would almost have to use whips to rout such lazy girls out of the shed!
I was pleased no one wanted me. I wept.
Sometimes there were visitors to the camp of Rask of Treve, though, one gathers, there were men in the confidence of Treve.
Generally they were merchants. Some brought food and wines. Others came to buy the plunder of the tarnsmen. Several of my work-mates were sold, and others, captured, brought in on tarnback, took their place, perhaps to be sold as well in their turn.
When I would, I would manage, in my daily tasks, to pass by the tent of Rask of Treve, that large, low tent, on its eight poles, of scarlet canvas lined with scarlet silk.
It was convenient to pass by the tent, you understand, for it was in the center of the camp, and thus often lay on the shortest route from place to place to place within the palisade.
Sometimes I saw the dark-haired girl, in red silk with the two golden bangles on her left ankle, when I passed by the tent. Sometimes I saw other girls. Once or twice I saw a stunningly figured blond girl in brief yellow silk. It seemed Rask of Treve had his choice of beautiful women.
I hated him!
One afternoon, after I had been some three weeks in the camp. Rask and his tarnsmen returned from a raid far to the north.
He had raided the slave compound of his old enemy, Haakon of Skjern. Among the new slaves brought to the camp were Inge and the Lady Rena of Lydius! Lana had not been captured. Inge and Rena were the only ones I knew among the new girls.
The morning following their capture, as I had been, they, and the others, were collared. They, like I, had spent their first night in the tent of the women. Following their collaring, however, as I had been, they were sent to the shed. When Rask had collared Inge he had shaken her blond head with his large hand. He seemed fond of her. And she had dared to put her cheek against his hand. How shameless she had become! Once of the scribes, she was now only a wanton, shameless slave girl! I wanted to tear her hair and eyes out! How pleased I was, and how startled she was, and the others, when Rask sent them to the shed, where they would be issued work tunics and find themselves work slaves in the camp! How Inge and Rena rejoiced when they found themselves forced to their knees before Ute! But Ute did not even let them rise.
They looked at her with horror.
'I am Ute,' Ute told them. 'I am first girl among the work slaves. You will obey me. You will be treated precisely as the other girls, neither better nor worse. If you do not obey me, exactly and promptly, in all things, you will be beaten.' They looked at her, scarcely comprehending.
'Do you understand?' asked Ute.
'Yes,' said Inge.
'Yes,' said Rena.
'The slave, El-in-or,' said Ute, 'stand forward.'
I had been hiding in the background. Ordered by Ute, I came forward. I saw Inge and Rena exchange glances of pleasure. I was frightened. 'This is one of my girls,' said Ute, 'as you are. You will not be cruel to her.' 'Ute!' protested Inge.
'Or I will have you beaten,' said Ute.
Inge looked at her, angrily.
'Do you understand?' said Ute.
'Yes,' said Inge.
'Yes,' said the Lady Rena of Lydius.
'El-in-or,' said Ute, 'take these new slaves and get them work tunics, and then return them to me, and I shall assign them their duties for the day.' Inge and Rena, and the other new girls, followed me, and I took them to the chest at the side of the shed, where I could find them their simple, brief garments of brown rep-cloth, which raiment would constitute their sole work garment in the camp of Rask of Treve.
From the chest I took forth several of the garments, small, clean and neatly folded. I had washed several myself, and, sprinkling them with water, and sweating, had pressed them on a smooth board, using the small, heavy, rounded Gorean irons, heated over fire. I had folded them, too, and placed them in the chest. I threw the garments to the girls, the new slaves. They were naked, save for their collars.
'But I am a trained pleasure slave,' protested Inge. She held the small, folded garment in her two hands.
'Put it on,' I told her.
'I was of high caste!' cried the Lady Rena of Lydius.
'Put it on,' I told her.
Then angrily Inge and Rena stood before me, clad in the brief, simple garments of female work slaves.
'You make a pretty work slave,' I said to Inge.
She clenched her fists.
'You, too,' said I to the Lady Rena of Lydius.
She glared at me in helpless fury, her fists, like Inge's, clenched. I looked at the others. 'Put them on!' I cried.
The other girls, too, donned their tunics, and then I led them all, the new slaves, clad for work, back to Ute, who would instruct them in their duties for the day.
Four days after Inge and Rena, and other new girls, had been brought to the secret war camp of Rask of Treve, the tarnsman, and his fierce men, again returned from the work of warriors.
Again there was excitement in the camp.
I leaped to my feet.
'Finish your work,' said Ute.
'Ute!' I cried.
'Finish your work,' she said.
Behind the kitchen shed, I was ironing. To one side there was a large pile of laundered work tunics, which I had washed in the early morning. The smooth board was set before me, mounted on two wooden blocks. A bowl of water was nearby, and a fire, over which, on an iron plate fixed on stones, there were, heating, five, small, flat-bottomed, rounded, wooden-handled Gorean irons. I had been kneeling before the board, ironing the tunics, which I would then fold and place to one side. Behind the kitchen shed, I had not been able to see the alighting of the tarns. I could hear, however, the delighted cries of the girls and the loud, warm, answering shouts of the men.
I heard one of the girls cry out, 'How beautiful she is!'
I supposed a new female had been brought to the camp.
Angrily I pressed one of the hot irons down on a work tunic, smoothing it. I must remain behind the kitchen shed, working, while they were permitted to greet the men! I wondered if Inge would be there, perhaps smiling and waving to Rask of Treve.
How furious I was!
But I reminded myself that I hated him!
In time the excitement, the cries and shouts, diminished, and I knew the men had dismounted, and any captive, perhaps bound, would have been sent to the tent of the women. The girls, here and there, returned to their labors.
I continued to iron.
About a quarter of an Ahn later, kneeling behind the board, ironing, I became aware of someone standing before me. I saw a pair of slim, tanned ankles. I lifted my eyes and saw slender, strong, tanned legs. And then, to my horror, the brief, tawny garment of a panther girl. And in the belt of the garment there was thrust a sleen knife. She wore barbaric ornaments of gold. I lifted my eyes to this tall, strong, beautifully figured female.
I put down my head, crying out in misery.
'She seems to know you,' said Rask of Treve.
I shook my head negatively.
'Lift your head, Slave,' said Verna.
I did so.
'Who is she?' asked Verna.
Rask shrugged. 'One of my slaves,' he said.
Verna smiled down at me. 'You know me, do you not, Girl?' she asked. I shook my head.
