might be seized with muscle cramps. The sweat and water, too, now that I had paused, sticky on my hot body, formed an adhesive surface which I feared might hold the leather of Kaibar.
'Fight!' cried the referee. His lash stung my back. The referee's lash again then fell on Kaibar, and again on me.
Kaibar and I again staggered toward one another. I had survived the eighteenth fighting period.
Then suddenly it seemed that the gunni were again on my hands and that I stood in the training barn before the great post. I could hear, but only as in the distance, the crying of the crowd, the screaming of the women, slave and free. I must work against time. Did not Kenneth hold the vial of sand? Blows it seemed I rained with an avalanche of lead on the reeling post shuddering in its braces. I must beat the sand. I could, and would. I lunged against the post, inches from it, blow after blow. Then spitting blood from my mouth, my legs covered to the knees with sweat and sand, pounding, laughing, exultant, terrible, I saw the post shatter away, falling from me.
'Stop! Stop!' was crying Kenneth. He ran to me, holding me. I stood bloody in the sand. At my feet, bloody, covered with sand, unconscious, lay Kaibar.
'Is he dead?' someone was crying.
'No,' called the referee.
I was dragged to the center of the sand and my hands, one by the referee, the other by Kenneth, the trainer, were lifted in victory.
I threw back my head, sucking in air. My hands were swollen. The bloodied leather was cut from my hands.
'I shall have a champion who can beat your Jason!' cried Miles of Vonda, from the side of the wall.
'Bring him then forth!' cried Kenneth. 'The stables of the Lady Florence of Vonda will await him!'
I had beaten the champion of the stables of Miles of Vonda two weeks ago. It had been that match which had established my precedence among the fighting slaves of the stables in the vicinity of Vonda. It had been that match which had resulted in my being named the local champion. This victory had not set well with Miles of Vonda. It was not merely that his own champion had been defeated and that he had lost a goodly bit of coin on the wagering involved, but that he had been, in the past, like several other young swains in the vicinity, an unsuccessful suitor, in the matter of the companionship, for the hand of the Lady Florence of Vonda.
I was half dragged, half pushed, by a crowd, Kenneth and Barus close to me, Taphris behind, through the barred gate leading to the sand pit. Another match, to hold the interest of the crowd, would soon be beginning. I pressed through people, slave and free, who pressed about me, congratulating me, many trying to touch me, even free persons. Slave girls, their eyes bright, their breath hot, tried to press themselves piteously against me. Some fell to their knees as I passed, trying to seize my legs and kiss at my thighs and ankles as I passed. Women know that they are the natural spoils of conquering males. I saw even the eyes of free women bright and wild over their veils.
'Well done, Jason,' said Kenneth. 'Well done.'
We heard the striking of the long bar from near the pit. Another match was beginning.
We walked around, behind the tiers, still Pressing through an admiring throng. Slave girls pattered behind, hoping for another look, but fearful now, away from the gate, of jostling free persons.
'Back,' begged Kenneth, 'back! Return to the tiers!'
We were now near the corridor gate leading from the small arena, to the stables where we were prepared for combat.
'The Mistress!' said Kenneth.
I looked up. Before us, standing, near the corridor gate, were two free women, veiled, in flowing. lovely robes.
Swiftly I knelt. I was owned by one of these women.
'Congratulations, Jason,' said the Lady Florence of Vonda. 'You did well.'
'Thank you, Mistress,' I said. I looked up at her. My throat was locked in her collar. I was still breathing heavily.
Though she was robed and veiled I would have recognized her, of course, from her eyes, her attitude, the lineaments of her body. Silk slaves recognize the bodies of their mistresses, even when they are robed and veiled, with much the same ease with which a master recognizes the bodies of his slaves. Too, I had, as I had learned on Gor, a good eye for woman flesh. Too, to my amazement, I recognized the woman who stood beside her.
'May I present, Kenneth,' said the Lady Florence of Vonda, 'my dear friend, the Lady Melpomene of Vonda.'
'I am charmed, Lady Melpomene,' said Kenneth, bowing.
'Jason,' said the Lady Florence, 'perhaps you remember my good friend, the Lady Melpomene of Vonda, my city.'
'Yes, Mistress,' I said, putting my head down.
'We have patched up our differences, Jason,' said the Lady Florence, 'and we are now the best, and fastest, of friends.'
'I am pleased to hear that, Mistress,' I said.
'Lady Melpomene will be staying with us for two or three days,' said the Lady Florence. 'And, soon, we shall have some house guests.'
'Yes, Mistress,' I said.
'You will see that the grounds, and the stables, are tidy, won't you, Kenneth?' asked the Lady Florence.
'Surely, Lady Florence,' said Kenneth.
'And you will keep the stable sluts on their chains, won't you?' she asked.
'As Lady Florence wishes,' said Kenneth.
'We would not wish the sight of them to embarrass or offend our guests.'
'No, Lady Florence,' said Kenneth.
'Oh, Kenneth,' asked the Lady Florence, 'is the new girl working out?'
'Yes, Lady Florence,' he said.
'What is her name?' she asked, absently.
'Taphris,' said Kenneth.
'Oh, yes!' she said. 'Is she doing well?'
'Yes,' said Kenneth, 'she has the makings of a superb stable slut.'
'Oh,' said the Mistress.
Taphris, in her stable collar, reddening, gasping, shrank back.
'It seems her tunic has been torn,' said the Lady Florence, 'and, too, it seems her hair has been cut.'
Taphris, with two hands, tried to pull together the sides of her tunic, but it did her little good. She was now as exposed as any stable slut. Kenneth had seen to that. The Mistress' spy was now only a dream of pleasure to any man who might lay eyes upon her.
'Surely Mistress recognizes that her tunic is now more fit for the arduous and crude labors of the stable slut than before.'
'Of course,' said Lady Florence.
'And her hair had value,' said Kenneth, 'so, as she is merely a stable slut, I saw fit to shear it.'
'Of course,' said the Lady Florence. She would not interfere, of course, with Kenneth's management of the slaves.
Kenneth smiled.
'Again, Jason,' said the Lady Florence, turning away from Kenneth, 'permit me to congratulate you on your victory.'
'Thank you, Mistress,' I said.
'I did not know, Lady Florence,' said Kenneth, 'that you were a partisan of the bouts.'
'I am not,' she said. 'It is only that the Lady Melpomene and I thought it might be amusing, for the afternoon, to see how some of those of the lower castes see fit to spend their time.'
'I see,' said Kenneth. 'Did Lady Florence enjoy the bouts?' he asked.
'As a woman of taste, and one of refined sensibility,' she said, 'I could not enjoy them.'
'I see,' said Kenneth.
'They are far too brutal,' she said. She turned to the Lady Melpomene. 'How did you find them, my dear?'
