In the forests there were sleen and panthers, and fierce tarsks.
And there were panther girls, too, who would be swift to pounce on an escaped slave girl.
I recalled how swiftly, how expeditiously, Elizabeth Cardwell had been taken by them, and humiliatingly exhibited, bound to a pole, at the river’s edge, where she had been purchased by Sarpedon, in whose tavern she now, for the pleasure of his customers, served as one of his paga slaves. I smiled. I corrected myself. There was no Elizabeth Cardwell serving in the paga tavern of Sarpedon of Lydius. There was, however, I recalled, a slave named Tana.
I glanced at Tina, standing beside me. She looked away. She did not care to meet my eyes.
She wore my collar. Where could she run?
She wore a brand. Where could she flee?
She could not even run to Lydius, her own city, for it was there, publicly, by judicial sentence, that the degradation of slavery, by the iron, had been burned into her body.
Even if a girl should escape one master, it is almost inevitable that she fall to the chains of another.
If not sooner, then later.
When a girl on Gor is slave, she is slave.
The penalty for attempted flight by a slave girl, for the first offense, is commonly a severe beating. The girl is, so to speak, permitted that mistake, once. If she should attempt to escape again, the master’s patience is usually less willing to be presumed upon. It is not uncommon to hamstring her. This makes her worthless, but is thought to provide an excellent lesson for other girls.
Gorean slave girls, those that are familiar with their collars, know that there is no escape for them.
They know in their hearts that they are truly slave, and will remain so, unless it might please their master to grant them freedom. It is seldom done. There is a Gorean saying that only a fool frees a slave girl.
When a girl on Gor is slave, she is truly slave. She is nothing more. She cannot be more. Most slave girls know this. All, in time, learn it.
Tina, however, was fresh to her collar. And so it was that, in Lydius, while we remained in port, I kept her in slave strap and bracelets. I did not wish to be inconvenienced by the amount of time, a day or so, it might take to have her once more in my chains.
I regarded Tina, I thought I might have use for her. She possessed skills. Moreover, she might probe valuable if I wished to recruit the help of Arn, the Outlaw, he whom she had once drugged and robbed.
“Do you remember an Outlaw,” I asked her, “Arn, by name?”
She looked at me, warily, apprehensive.
“Would you like to belong to him?” I asked.
She looked at me, with horror.
I turned away, leaving her at the rail. I was pleased at her reaction. I heard her pulling at the slave bracelets as I turned away. She might now, I speculated, be well induced to serve me with exceeding fervor and diligence, should I assign her tasks in accord with her thieving skills, for fear that she be given to the massive, handsome Arn. Moreover, I told myself, afterwards, if it seemed politic, I could always give her to him anyway. She was my slave girl, a female animal I owned, to do with as I pleased.
I heard Cara, off near the stern quarter, singing. I envied Rim his girl… But where was Rim?
It was near the ninth hour and soon, almost within an Ahn, I wished to cast off the mooring ropes. The water, many kegs, and the supplies, ranging from hard breads to slave nets, were abroad.
The morning tide from Thassa was running in, swelling the river. I wished to leave at the height of the tide. It would breast at the tenth Ahn. It was late in the summer and the river was not as high as it is in the spring. In the Laurius, and particularly near its mouth, there are likely to be shoals, shifting from day to day, brought and formed by the current. The tide from Thassa, lifting the river, makes the entrance to the Laurius less troublesome, less hazardous. The Tesephone, of course, being a light ship, an oared ship, a shallow-drafted ship, is commonly very little dependent on the tide. My men idled near the thwarts. Some slept between them. I wished them to rest now. They would have work soon enough. I looked at them. I grinned. At a cry of Thurnock such men, in an instant, would become a crew. They were of Port Kar. Where was Rim? “Captain!” called Rim, from the wharf.
I was pleased. He had returned.
“Captain!” he called. “Come here!” Then he saw Cara, who had run to the rail, having heard him. She waved delightedly. “Slave!” he called. He snapped his fingers at her, pointing to the planks of the wharf at his feet. She sped down the gangplank to kneel swiftly before him. I followed her. He lifted her to her feet and kissed her, and then made her turn her back to him. He opened a small package. It contained a very cheap, but very lovely, necklace of tiny shells, threaded on a string of leather. He held it before her eyes. “It is beautiful!” she cried. As she stood before him, her back to him, delighted, he wrapped it in and about the steel of her slave collar. “Thank you, Master,” she breathed. “It is beautiful.” He tied it at the back of her neck. Then he turned her about, and kissed her. She melted to him, her lips to his. I do not know how else to express it. I have never seen it in a free woman. I have seen it only in slave girls, at the lips of their masters. Rim did not even seem to note the tiny, delicate yellow talender in her hair. What it meant to tell him he, already knew. “Return to the ship, Slave,” said Rim. “Yes, Master!” said the girl, and fled up the gangplank.
“What have you been doing?” I asked.
“Purchasing a shaving knife,” he said. He produced another small package. “Why have you asked me to the wharf?” I inquired.
“I have something to show you,” he said, “something in which I think you will be much interested.” “We dip oars with the hour,” I told him.
“It is quite close,” said Rim, secretively. “Come with me.”
“We have little time.” I said.
“I think you will be interested, and I think you will be pleased,” said Rim, “Follow me.” Angrily, I strode behind him, following him from the wharf.
To my surprise, he led me to the wharf slave market.
“We need no more slaves,” I told him, angrily.
We entered the boarded compound. About a half inch is left between each pair of boards, that men, glancing in, might be moved to interest, but would be able to fully satisfy their curiosity only by actually stepping within. The boards are alternately painted blue and yellow, the slavers’ colors.
The compound was quite large, and there were many slaves within, mostly female. Some were chained by the neck to rings, set in the ground. We passed between, and among, cages. Others were tied or chained to poles and stakes. Some of the cages I noted, were overcrowded with fair occupants. In one of the cages I saw Tana and Ela. They shrank back against the bars. It was in this market that Thurnock had disposed of them. Along one wall, sitting, waiting for cage space, were many girls, fastened by a long chain running through ankle rings, on the left ankle of each.
“We must soon dip oars,” I told Rim, not much pleased.
“Look,” said Rim.
I grinned.
I went closer.
There was a bar set at the back of the compound, a metal bar, some two inches in width, fastened to stanchions. The bar was about four feet from the ground, and about forty feet long. There were several girls fastened to it. They had been backed against it. Then their arms had been taken behind he bar and then pulled forward, and upward, tight against it. Slave bracelets, then with about a foot of chain, had been locked on their wrists, fastening them in place. I went to one girl, who stood so secured.
She looked at me with fury.
Rim and I appraised her.
“Her breasts are a bit small,” I said.
“And her wrists and ankles,” he pointed out, “are a bit thick.”
“That,” I said, “of course, we knew before.”
“Yes,” he said.
“But note the belly,” I said. “It is not without interest.”
“And the hips,” he said, “do they not give the promise of sweetness?” “Yes,” I said, The girl struggled at the bar.
“She moves well,” said Rim.
“Yes,” I said.
The girl stopped struggling, and stood, tense, at the bar, she knees bent. Regarding us with fury. She pulled against the slave bracelets. I could see, when the chain moved, its print on her body, where it had lain before. It was tight.
“Greetings,” said I.
I regarded the golden chains and claws, still at her throat. I noted that, about her left ankle, there was still the anklet of threaded shells.
She looked at us, in rage.
“So you perhaps have some more men to sell us?” I asked.
She went wild, jerking and moaning, pulling at the chain. Then she subsided. She looked at us, sullenly.
“Greetings, Sheera,” said I.
“Do you like her?” asked a voice. It was one of the slaver’s men.
“She is not bad,” I said.
“A panther girl,” he said, “as you may have guessed. She was brought in but last night, in the darkness.” I smiled. This meant that probably she had fallen to an outlaw. Such often bring their captures to a market late, after dark. They are then less likely to be recognized.
“An outlaw brought her in?” asked Rim.
“Yes,” said the man.
“His name?” I asked.
“Arn,” said the man.
Sheera pulled again at her slave bracelets, helplessly.
