had been called Kunguni motioned for her not to strike. He spoke, in Gorean, to the girl in the black slacks.
'What was the name of the ship which captured the Blossoms of Telnus?' she asked. 'Who was its captain?'
'I do not know,' wept the blond girl. 'I do not even know in what market I was sold.'
'It was the Sleen of Port Kar,' said he who had been called Kunguni, 'captained by the rogue, Bejar, of that port.'
Watching through the wooden slats above, I smiled. Bejar, in my opinion, was one of the most responsible, decent and serious captains in Port Kar.
'We had this through Uchafu, the slaver, who had spoken to Ulafi,' said the man.
'Ulafi should have been recruited,' said the dark-haired girl. 'He will do anything for gold.'
'Except betray his merchant codes,' said he who was called Kunguni.
I was pleased to hear this, for I was rather fond of the tall, regal Ulafi. Apparently they did not regard him as a likely fellow to be used in the purchase of stolen notes on speculation, to be resold later to their rightful owner. Many merchants, I was sure, would not have been so squeamish. Such dealings, of course, would encourage the theft of notes. It was for this reason that they were forbidden by the codes. Such notes, their loss reported, are to be canceled, and replaced with alternative notes.
'Let us send a ship to Port Kar,' said the dark-haired girl, 'to obtain the ring and papers from Bejar.'
'Do not be a fool,' said he who was called Kunguni. 'By now, Bejar has doubtless disposed of the ring, which would be meaningless to him, and has sold the notes.'
'Perhaps he would give them to an agent,' said the girl, 'to be brought to Schendi for sale to Shaba.'
'He would sell them,' said the man. 'He would choose to realize a sure profit An agent might betray him. Too, an agent, carrying the notes, might be dealt with in Schendi not with gold but steel.'
'They are then lost,' said the girL.
'But we retain the true ring,' said the man. 'Belisarius, in Cos, if he learns of the loss of the Blossoms of Telnus, will doubtless contact his superiors, who will act. A new false ring may be fabricated, and new notes prepared.'
'If he learns,' said the girl.
'It could take months,' admitted the man. Then he turned to face the figure seated behind the low table, whom I could not see. 'You could take the ring to Cos, to Belisarius,' he said.
'I am not a fool,' he said. 'The notes must come first to Schendi.'
'As you wish,' said he who had been called Kunguni. 'But,' he said, shuddering, 'they may come for it.'
'They?' asked the seated figure.
'They who desire it,' said he who had been called Kisuguni.
'I do not fear them,' said the seated figure.
'I have heard they are not like men,' said he who had been called Kunguni.
'I do not fear them,' said the man behind the table.
'Give me the ring.' said he who had been called Kunguni. 'I will keep it safe.'
'I am not a fool,' said the other. 'Bring me the notes.'
'What of her?' asked the girl in black slacks, gesturing with the whip to the suspended, blond slave.
'I think she has told us, willingly and helplessly, all that she knows,' said he who had been called Kunguni.
'What shall we now do with her?' asked the girl in slacks.
He who had been called Kunguni looked at the suspended, blond slave. He looked at her carefully, considering her. 'She is pretty,' he said. 'Let her live.'
He signaled to the two large fellows, those clad in skins and feathers, and armlets of gold, and said something, briefly, to them. I did not understand the language in which he spoke. It was neither English nor Gorean. They lowered the blond to the floor, and took the rope from her wrists by which she had been suspended. They then took the cording from her wrists, which had tied them together, and, with the same cording, fastened them behind her back. They then threw her to her stomach, untied her ankles, and snapped shackles on them, steel shackles, with about a six-inch run of chain. They then threw her on her knees on the dark blanket on which I had originally seen her. They slipped one end of the rope by which she had been suspended under her collar and pulled it some ten feet through, roughly, at the side of her neck. This double strand they then took some two and a half feet behind her. They looped it about a slave ring, set there in the wall, one of four, about a yard above the floor, and tied it there, the long, free ends falling loose, coiling, to the floor. She, blindfolded and shackled, her wrists bound behind her, her neck tethered to a ring, was well secured.
'What a miserable, worthless thing you are,' said the girl with the whip to her.
'Yes, Mistress,' said the blond girl, her lip trembling.
'Observe,' said he who, had been called Kunguni to the dark-haired girl with the whip. Then to the blond, he said, sharply, 'Nadu!'
Immediately, as she could, the girl assumed the position of the pleasure slave. Her hands, of course, were tied behind her.
'Despicable slave!' said the dark-haired girl.
'Yes, Mistress,' wept the blond.
The dark-haired girl then drew back the whip to strike her, but he who had been called Kunguni caught her wrist, in the black sleeve of her blouse. 'No,' he said. 'The whip will be used later.'
He then released her wrist.
'Excellent,' she said. 'I shall look forward to it.'
'And I, as well,' said he.
The girl looked with hatred at the blond.
I smiled to myself. I did not think they had need any longer of the services of the dark-haired girl. Her translations, I must admit, had been fluent and accurate.
I then slipped back from the wooden slats, moved back on the roof and, quietly, lowered myself to the first roof, a low one, and, from there, down to the street.
I spun about.
I faced the short, stabbing spears of the two huge blacks. They had slipped out the front door, to receive me.
The door opened again and, in the light, I saw the' face of be who had been called Kunguni. 'Come in,' said he, 'we have been expecting you.'
I straightened up. 'I bear in my tunic,' I said, 'two letters, which should make my business clear to you.'
'Move carefully,' suggested he who had been called Kunguni.
Slowly, watching the points of the two stabbing spears, I drew forth the two letters. I had not carried with me, of course, either the ring or the notes.
I handed the two letters to the man at the door. He glanced at them.
'One of them,' I said, 'is for a man named Msaliti.'
'I am Msaliti,' said the man who had been called Kunguni. 'Come in,' he said.
I followed him into the building, through the small anteroom and into the larger room, which I had seen through the wooden grille in the ceiling. The two large fellows, in skins and feathers, with golden armlets, entered behind me.
Inside I saw, to one side, the blindfolded, whipped slave. She had revealed eagerly, helplessly, sobbing, all she knew. She still knelt beautifully, in the position of the pleasure slave. She had not been given permission to break position. The other girl, the dark-haired girl with the whip, seemed startled at my entrance. She had not expected me. The men, I understood, had not taken her into their confidence. I did not greet her. She was the sort of woman who is best greeted by throwing her upon her back and raping her.
I looked at the man who sat, cross-legged, behind the table. lie was a large, tall man. He had long, thin hands, with delicate fingers. His face seemed refined, but his eyes were hard, and piercing. I did not think he was of the warriors but I had little doubt he was familiar with the uses of steel. I had seldom seen a face which, at once, suggested such sensitivity, but, at the same time, reflected such intelligence and uncompromising will. Following the lines of his cheekbones there was a stitching of tribal tattooing. He wore a robe of green and brown, with slashes of black. Against the background of jungle growth, blending with plants and shadows, it would be
