occasion. We were her girls, and she wished us to present ourselves well. She stopped before me.
'Stand prettily,' she said.
Furiously, I did so.
Ute went to the chest of silks and bells and brought forth five more slave bells, which she tied with bits of scarlet ribbon to my collar.
'There is something missing,' she said, standing back.
I did not respond.
She went again to the chest. The girls gasped. As I stood there two large, golden earrings were thrust through the piercings of my ears and fastened on me. There were tears in my eyes.
'And here,' said Ute, 'lest the ardor of the men become too strong, this!' The girls laughed. She took a white, silken ribbon and wrapped it five times about the collar, not tying it.
I had been marked white silk.
Inge and Rena laughed. 'Do not laugh,' smiled Ute, 'for you, too, will be so marked, lest Raf and Pron, huntsmen of Treve, in a careless moment, devour my two other white-silk pretties.'
The other girls laughed. I could see, to my irritation, that Inge and Rena did not much care to wear the white ribbon. I could not understand this. Did they wish to be used as helpless slaves by handsome, powerful Raf and Pron? I supposed they did, and I despised them in their weakness. Inge had been of the scribes and Rena had been free. She had been even the Lady Rena of Lydius! Now they seemed to be naught but female slaves. I was pleased that I was not such as they.
But how shamed I was, that I, Elinor Brinton, of Park Avenue, must appear before men and serve them, so clad and so belled.
Ute touched me, and the others, then, with a bit of perfume. I was in anguish. 'Serve, Slaves!' laughed Ute, clapping her hands, and the girls fled to the center of the camp, where I heard the shouting of pleasure of men, welcoming them.
Ute and I stood facing one another.
'Serve, Slave,' said Ute.
Angrily I, perfumed and rouged, belled and silked, turned and followed the other girls to the center of the camp, near the great tent of Rask of Treve, of scarlet canvas lined with scarlet silk, on its eight poles.
'Wine! Bring me wine!' shouted the warrior.
I, a slave girl, with a rustle of silk and slave bells, hurried to him, a master, to serve him.
Kneeling, I filled his cup.
The music of those of the caste of musicians was heady, like the wine. There was shouting and laughing, the pleasurable moaning and crying out of girls used beyond the rim of firelight.
There was much feasting, and drinking.
On the sand, before the warriors, belled, in scarlet silk, the girl, Talena, danced.
Some of them shouted, and threw bones and pieces of meat at her.
I tired to rise, but the warrior whose cup I had filled had his hand in my hair. 'So, you are a liar, and a thief, and a traitress? he asked.
'Yes,' I said, terrified.
He turned my head from side to side, looking at the earrings. He was drunk, and I could tell that he was aroused. 'More wine,' he said.
I again filled his cup.
'Your ears are pierced,' he said, shaking his head, trying to clear his vision. 'If it please Master,' I whispered. 'If it please Master.'
'Wine!' cried the other man.
I tried to rise.
Talena was driven from the sand and another girl, belled, stood forth to please the men.
At the head of the feast sat the magnificent Rask of Treve, in his victory. At his side, cross-legged, sat Verna, the panther girl, who was served by we girls as might have been a warrior. How I envied her her freedom, her beauty, her pride, and even the simple opacity of the brief garment she wore. She was not clad in a bit of silk, a touch of cosmetics, a scent of perfume and the bells of a slave.
The man whom I had served wine reached clumsily for me.
'I am white silk!' I cried, shrinking back.
'Wine! cried the other man.
I tried to rise, but the man's hand was knotted in the silk. If I moved I would strip myself.
Another girl, on her knees, reaching for him, holding his head, insinuated herself between us. 'I am red silk,' she murmured. 'Touch me! Touch me!' His hand left my silk and I darted away.
I fled to the other man and served him.
'Wine!' called Verna. I ran to her and, kneeling, filled her cup.
'Wine,' said Rask of Treve, holding forth his cup.
I could not meet his eyes. All of me blushed red before him, my master. I filled his cup.
'She is pretty,' said Verna.
'Another girl, with jeers, was driven from the sand, and another took her place. 'Wine!' cried another man, about the circle.
I leaped up and, carrying the vessel, with a clash of slave bells, ran to serve him. I tipped the vessel, but the wine was gone. I must fetch more. 'Run, Girl!' he cried. 'Fetch wine!'
'Yes, Master!' I cried.
I fled from the firelight. I stumbled over two figures, rolling in the darkness. A warrior cursed. I suddenly saw, rolled on her back, her dark hair loose, under the moons of Gor, Techne, her lips parted, reaching for the warrior. I fled into the darkness, toward the kitchen shed. Before I reached it I felt myself seized in a man's arms, and felt his leather. His bearded face pressed to my softness. 'No!' I cried. He took my face in his hands. There were bells on my collar. 'You are the slave, El-in-or,' he said, the little liar, the thief and traitress.' I tried to twist away. He saw the earrings of gold, and I felt his hands hard on my arms, hurting them. 'I am white silk!' I cried. He shook his head and looked at the collar. About it, wrapped there by Ute earlier, was the ribbon of white silk. He was furious. He did not release me. I could hear, from back at the fire, yet another girl jeered from the sand. 'Please,' I whispered. 'I am white silk! I am white silk.' Another shout from the fire indicated that a new girl now addressed herself to the pleasure of the feasters, and one, it seems, pleasing to them. 'I would like to see you dance, little traitress, ' he said. 'I must fetch wine,' I said, and twisted away, running toward the kitchen shed. There I found Ute. 'Do not send me back, Ute!' I wept. 'Fetch your wine and return,' said Ute. I dipped the wine vessel into the great stone jar, again filling it. 'Please, Ute!' I wept. I could hear more shouting back at the fire. 'El-in-or!' I heard shout. 'El-in-or, the traitress!'
I was terrified.
'They are calling for you,' said Ute.
'Come, Slave, to the sand!' ordered a man's voice. It was the fierce, bearded fellow, who had accosted me as I had fled to the kitchen shed.
'Hurry, Slave!' cried Ute. Hurry!'
With a cry of misery, spilling wine over the brim of the vessel, I slipped past the man in the doorway of the kitchen shed, and ran back to the firelight.
When I reached the feasters another girl took from me the wine.
I was thrust rudely to the center of the sand. I felt a hand tear away the bit of silk I wore. I cried out in misery and covered my face with my hands. 'Liar!' I head cry.
'Thief!' 'Traitress!' I heard cry.
The musicians began to play.
I fell to my knees.
The girls began to jeer. The men shouted angrily. 'Bring whips!' I heard cry. 'Dance for your master, Slave,' I heard Verna call out.
I extended my hand to Rask of Treve, piteously. I was suddenly aware, behind me, of a warrior, standing. In his right hand, the lashes looped in his left, he held a slave whip. I cried out with misery, my hand extended to Rask of Treve, my eyes pleading. He must show Elinor Brinton mercy!
Burt she would be shown no mercy.
'Dance, Slave,' said Rask of Treve.
I leaped to my feet, my hands held over my head. The musicians again began to play.
And Elinor Brinton, of Park Avenue, of Earth, a Gorean slave girl, danced before primitive warriors.
The music was raw, melodious, deeply sensual.
I suddenly saw, scarcely comprehending, the awe in their eyes. They were silent, their fierce eyes bright. I saw their hands tighten, the shoulders lean forward. I danced.
Well had I been trained in the pens of Ko-ro-ba. Not for nothing had it been I and Lana who had been among the most superb of the slave females then in the pens.
In the firelight, in the sand, before warriors, I danced. My feet, belled, struck in the sand. The perfume was wild about me, swift in the brightness and the shadows. On my lips I wore slave rouge. I danced.
I could see the eyes of the men, the movements of their bodies. I realized, suddenly, in the dance, that I had power in my beauty, incredible power, power to strike men and stun them, to astonish them in the firelight, to make them, if I wished, mad with the wanting of me.
'She is superb!' I heard whisper.
I danced toward him, he who had said this, and he leaped toward me, but two of his fellows seized him, holding him back. I danced back, my hands held to him, as though I had been torn from him.
'Aiii!' he cried.
There were shouts of pleasure.
