The prisoner stiffened in silent rage. Suddenly I felt very powerful. He was helpless. And, too, almost overwhelming me, I felt a sudden fury against men, for what they had done to me, even to the collar and brand. And this man was Gorean, and he had, a moment before, looked upon me as a master upon a slave girl.
'Yes, Master,' I said to Borchoff, captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus.
I approached the prisoner, looking up at him. He looked away. 'Does Master fear a slave girl?' I asked. I touched him with my finger, tracing idly on his shoulder. I smiled to myself. The only men I knew who would fear a slave girl would be men of Earth. A slave girl would confuse and frighten them. They would not know what to do with one. They would doubtless attempt to indoctrinate her swiftly with masculine values, and turn her into an imitation man. She would then be safe for them. They would doubtless proceed in this matter regardless of her feelings, oblivious of her integrities, for they would not be truly interested in fulfilling her nature, whatever it might be, but in avoiding the responsibilities of their own. Women and men are identical; this the defensive thesis of weak, fearful men. It is simple. If women are not women, then they need not be men. Why do many men fear manhood? I do not think it would be so terrible.
'You are large and strong, Master,' I said to the prisoner. 'And you are handsome, too,' I said.
He looked away, angrily.
'Why do you not take me in your arms, and kiss me as a slave girl?' I whimpered. 'Do you not find me attractive?'
He said nothing.
'Oh,' I said, 'you wear chains.' I kissed at his arm. He was more than ten inches taller than I, and must have weighed twice as much. I was very small next to him.
'Let Dina give you pleasure, Master,' I whispered. 'Let Dina please you.' I bit at his tunic, which was torn, with my teeth. 'You should let Dina please you,' I said, 'for soon you may be branded, and then you will be only a poor little slave like Dina.' With my teeth I tore away his upper tunic, stripping him to the waist. He had a mighty chest. I caressed his flanks, and licked and bit at his belly. 'Male slaves,' I said, 'may be slain for so much as touching a slave girl.' I looked up at him. 'Dina is sorry that you will soon be a slave, Master,' I said.
'I will not be a slave,' he said. I looked at him, puzzled. Then again he did not look at me.
I took the waist of his tunic in my teeth.
'Do not, Slave Girl,' said he.
I shrank back, frightened.
'Run along, Dina,' said Borchoff, returning to the prisoner.
'Yes, Master,' I said.
I left them, returning to the quarters for female slaves, to swim, and bathe and refresh myself before the duties of the evening.
'Fetch in the prisoner,' called Borchoff, rising behind the low table in the hall of Turian pleasures, lifting his goblet.
I knelt near the man to whom I had served meat. The platter was now empty.
The girl in yellow silk had stopped dancing, and the musicians were quiet.
There must have been some fifty men in the hall, and most of the girls.
'Welcome,' called Borchoff, as the prisoner was bro9glit in. He wore chains on his ankles, and his hands were locked behind his back in iron manacles. He had been much beaten.
The prisoner was thrown to his knees before Borchoff, captain of the keep of Stones of Turmus.
He was held on his knees by two guards.
'You are guest here,' said Borchoff. 'Tonight you will feast.'
'You are generous, Captain,' said the man.
'Tomorrow,' said Borchoff, 'you will speak beneath our persuasions.'
'I do not think so,' said the man.
'Our methods are efficient,' said Borchoff.
'They have not yet served,' said the man.
Borchoff appeared angry.
'But I will speak when it pleases me,' said the man.
'We are humbly grateful,' said Borchoff.
The prisoner inclined his head.
'You are of the warriors,' said Borchoff.
'Perhaps,' said the man.
'I like you,' said Borchoff. Then he called out, 'Sulda, Tupa, Fina, Melpomene, Dina, feast and please our mysterious guest, he who finds it difficult to recall his caste, his name or city.'
We fled to the kneeling, chained man, obeying.
'Come nightfall next, we trust,' said Borchoff, 'his memory will be much improved.'
'Is it the nineteenth hour?' asked the prisoner.
'No,' said Borchoff.
'I shall speak,' said he, 'at the nineteenth hour.'
'You fear the persuasions of the morrow?' inquired Borchoff.
'No,' said the prisoner, 'but there is a time and a place for speaking, as there is a time and a place for steel.'
'It is a saying of the warriors,' said Borchoff.
'Is it?' inquired the man.
Borchoff lifted his cup to him, saluting him. Borchoff, too, was of the warriors.
'It is unfortunate,' said Borchoff, 'that you fell living into our hands. The tharlarion pens of Turia require slaves for their cleaning.'
There was much laughter about the tables at the witticism of Borchoff. I, too, and the other girls, laughed merrily. Much insult had he done to the prisoner, should he be of the warriors. I, and the others, found the thought amusing that the fellow should be enslaved and set to such lowly tasks. He had intimidated me in the courtyard, in spite of the fact that he had been helpless and chained. I thus found the thought of his prospective enslavement and labors particularly delicious. It would serve him so right!
The prisoner did not respond to Borchoff. Borchoff nodded to us, and then drank from his cup.
'Poor Master,' I said to the kneeling, chained prisoner. I knelt beside him and took his head in my hands and pressed my lips to his, kissing him. 'Poor Master,' I said.
He looked at me. 'You are the slut of the courtyard,' he said.
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'It will be pleasant to tag your ear,' he said. I did not understand him.
I, and the other girls, then began to kiss and caress him, to bring him wines and feed him delicacies. Much did we move about him, and serve him.
'It is the time of general pleasure!' called Borchoff.
The men in the room responded eagerly. 'Dina!' called the fellow to whom I had earlier served the spiced hot meat.
I kissed the kneeling, chained prisoner swiftly, with the insulting kiss often given by the wives of Earth to their husbands. 'Forgive me, Master,' I said, 'I must now serve another.' Then I hurried away.
I heard the prisoner inquire the hour of Borchoff. 'It is the eighteenth hour,' said Borchoff.
I lay in the arms of the Turian soldier, on the cushions on the tiles of the hail of Turian pleasures. I kissed him. He was the fourth one to whom I had been thrown. 'How marvelous you are, Master,' I whispered to him. I cuddled up to him, delicately lifting my head. I wanted him to give me a cube of meat, honeyed, from the metal plate which lay near him. I, and the other girls, might not take such food for ourselves. Our hands could be cut off. We are not fed hours before the feast, and, in serving the feast, are not permitted in the least to partake of it. The feast was not ours to eat, but to serve. We were slave girls. We might, however, be fed by the men. If we would eat, we must earn our food. 'Please, Master,' I wheedled, 'feed Dina.' He put a cube of meat, boiled in wine, honeyed, in my mouth, thrusting it between my teeth and cheek with his finger. 'Thank you, Master,' I whispered, kissing him, the meat in my mouth.
I looked up, savoring the meat. I looked across to Sulda. I had fed better than she this evening.
I was well learning, in the keep of Stones of Turmus, how to serve men.
