note and the vial of perfume in the sack. I again put down my head and he put the sack, on its leather string, about my neck.
'Be careful with that perfume,' he said. 'It is expensive. It is a signature perfume'
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'Is your Mistress beautiful?' he asked.
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'Would she look well in a collar?' he asked.
'I am only a poor slave,' I said. 'How could I form an opinion on that?'
He looked at me, sternly.
'Yes, Master,' I said. 'She would look well in a collar.'
'You are a big fellow,' said he. 'Have you ever been entered in the stable bouts?'
'No, Master,' I said.
'It is growing late,' he said. 'Perhaps you should hurry home. Your Mistress, hot in her robes, will be wondering where you are.'
I said nothing.
'Must I beat you from the shop with a whip?' he asked.
'No, Master,' I said. I turned about.
'It seems a shame for a beautiful woman to waste her time with a silk slave,' he said. 'She should be crawling, collared, to the feet of a true man.'
I said nothing.
'Run!' he said, suddenly. 'Run, Slave!'
I ran from the shop.
Outside, almost immediately, I struck against two men. 'Forgive me, Masters,' I said. But my arms were then held, each arm by one of the men. 'I did not mean to strike against you,' I said. I was being pulled then along the street. The shadows were long. It was warm, and late in the afternoon. There were only a few people on the street. I saw that the two men who held me were the fellows in the brown tunics whom I had seen earlier. 'I am sorry, Masters,' I said. 'Beat me, and let me go, please.' I realized then they were pulling me toward an alley. My feet, bare, scraped on the flat stones of the street. My hands, tied behind me, as they had been while I had run the errands of this morning and the errand of this afternoon, fought the binding fiber. A passing Baker glanced at us. 'What do you want of me?' I asked. I was dragged into the alley. 'I am Jason, slave to the Lady Florence of Vonda,' I said. 'I cannot be he whom you seek. Look at my collar. Call a guardsman!' I was thrust along the alley. About fifty yards down the alley was a high-sided tharlarion wagon. It had a canvas cover. I was thrown brutally, back first, against a building near the wagon. My feet were half kicked out from under me. My own weight then half pinned me in place. I saw that these men were accustomed to handling slaves. 'Who are you?' I asked. One of the men, from his tunic, drew forth a slave hood. 'Who are you? What do you want?' I cried. Then the wadding connected with the hood was thrust into my mouth; in a moment, by buckled straps, fastened behind my neck, it was secured in place. One of the men then threw aside the cover on the wagon. Inside I saw a slave sack and, formed of wood, a small, stout, cord-bound, thick-barred slave cage. Such cages are quite adequate for bound slaves. The hood was then drawn over my head and, by straps, buckled shut under my chin. My feet were kicked then fully from under me. In a moment I felt myself being thrust, doubled up, in a heavy leather sack. My head was then thrust down. The sack was tied shut over my head. The two men then lifted me, helpless in the sack, and placed me in the slave cage. I heard its wooden gate slide down into place. The gate then would have been tied shut.
'Throw down and buckle the cover,' I heard.
The canvas on the wagon, then, would have been shut and secured.
In a few moments I could feel the movement of the ironrimmed, wooden wheels of the wagon over the stones of the alley.
I struggled for a time, but, in the sack, could obtain no leverage. At times I felt my body, captive in the sack, press futilely against the thick, stout bars of the slave cage. I tried to free my wrists but could not begin to do so. They were held perfectly, and would continue to be held perfectly, each a prisoner to the other, until masters might free me. Slave knots had been used, and Gorean binding fiber, designed for the perfect control of slaves and prisoners.
Again I struggled, futilely, irrationally. Then I ceased struggling.
Resistance was useless.
17 THE LADY MELPOMENE; THE VENGEANCE OF THE LADY MELPOMENE
'Ah, Jason,' said the woman. 'You are awake.'
I struggled to move, but could not well do so. When the tharlarion wagon had arrived at a house in Venna, I had been removed from the slave cage and slave sack. When the hood, with its gag, had been removed from me, I had been forced, sitting in the courtyard, my head back and nose held, to swallow a draft of water, into which a reddish powder had been mixed. I had shortly thereafter lost consciousness.
I closed my eyes. The image of the woman had been blurred.
'I know you are awake,' she said.
I opened my eyes. I moved my arms and legs a little, but they were, on the whole, effectively restrained. I lay on my back on a large, round couch, on deep furs. I was chained, hand and foot.
'Do you know me?' she asked.
I now recognized her, but I thought it wiser on my part to deny this. Though she had been veiled when I had seen her on the streets of Ar, in her palanquin, it was not difficult to recall the eyes, the character of the cheekbones, the voice.
'No, Mistress,' I said.
'I am the Lady Melpomene of Vonda,' she said.
'Yes, Mistress,' I said.
She stood near the couch, looking at me. 'Your Mistress,' she said, acidly, 'insinuated in Ar that I could not have bid sixteen tarsks for you. That is false. It was rather that I did not think you were worth sixteen tarsks.'
'Yes, Mistress,' I said.
'You are her preferred silk slave, are you not?' she asked.
'I think so, Mistress,' I said.
'Is she fond of you?' she asked.
'She finds me in some respects not unacceptable,' I said.
'You are now chained on my couch,' she said.
'Yes, Mistress,' I said.
'You are a pretty male,' she said, 'sleek and strong.'
I said nothing.
'I have complimented you,' she said.
'Thank you, Mistress,' I said.
'You have recovered more quickly than I had anticipated from the Tassa powder,' she said. 'But it does not matter. You may watch me while I prepare myself.' She went to a vanity and knelt there, and, looking in the mirror, began to comb her hair. It was long and dark.
I looked about the room. It was large, but shabby. The hangings were old. There were cracks in certain of the walls. It was not kept up.
The Lady Melpomene slowly, luxuriantly, delighting in its beauty, and well displaying it for me, combed her hair. She used a comb of kailiauk horn. She wore a yellow gown, long and almost transparent. Her feet were bare.
'Lady Melpomene has beautiful hair,' I said. '
