been saluting me, as though for my courage.
At one point the retinue passed five kneeling girls. They were barefoot and wore brief, sleeveless, one-piece tunics Their heads were down to the very pavement itself. They wore close-fitting -metal collars and were chained together, literally, by the neck. I gasped. 'Do not n-find such women,' said Ligurious. 'They are nothing. They are only slaves.' I was shaken by this sight. My heart was pounding rapidly. I could scarcely breathe. It was not outrage which I felt, interestingly, nor pity. It was something else. It was a state of unusual sexual excitement, and arousal. 'Smile,' suggested Ligurious, himself lifting his hand graciously to the crowd. 'Wave.'
I controlled myself, and then, again, favored the crowd with my attentions, with my smiles and countenance.
At one time, later, we passed by a set of low, broad, recessed-from-the-street, cement steps or shelves. Behind these levels, these shelves or steps, there was a high cement wall.
There were several women, perhaps ten or eleven, on these steps or shelves. Most were white but there were at least two blacks and, I think, one oriental. Each was naked, absolutely.
Too, chains ran from heavy rings to their bodies, to perhaps a lovely neck, or a fair wrist or ankle. They were fastened in place, literally, on the cement shelves. As the retinue passed, they oriented themselves to the street and knelt, their h ads down to the warm cement. There were more rings than there were women on the shelves, and there were rings, too, set at various heights, in the wall behind the shelves. These rings, too, however, like many of the shelf rings, were not being used. There was ail apparatus at one side, like a canopy wrapped about poles, but it, too, was not now in use.
I looked at the women, naked, kneeling, their heads down, chained on the shelves.
'More slaves,' explained Ligurious.
Again I fought for breath. I clutched the side of the palanquin to steady myself.
'What is wrong?' he asked.
'Nothing,' I said. 'Nothing.'
'It was only an open-air market,' he said, 'a small one.
There are several such in Corcyrus.'
'A market!' I said.
'Yes,' He said.
'But what is bought and sold there?' I asked. I recalled the naked, chained' beauties.
'Women,' he said.
'Women!' I said.
'Yes,' he said.
'I see,' I said. How matter-of-factly he had put thatl Such markets, clearly, like other sorts of markets, were a common feature of Gorean life.
'Bow, and wave,' he suggested.
Again I lifted my hand to the crowds. Again I smiled forth from the palanquin. But I began to tremble. I had seen owned, displayed human females, women who were merchandise, women who were literally up for sale.
'Put them from your mind,' said Ligurious. 'They are nothing, only slaves.' How terrifying, how horrifying, I thought, to be such a woman, one at the mercy of anyone who has the means to buy her. What a horrifying and categorical thing it would be, I thought, to be subject to sale.
'Hail Sheila, Tatrix of Corcyrus!' I heard.
'The people love you,' said Ligurious.
On this world, I said to myself, a woman could be literally owned by a man. She could be as much his, literally, as a shoe or a dog. I fought the feelings within me. I strove' against them. I tried to force the memory of the women chained on the shelves from my mind. I could not do so. I moaned. Then I could no longer deny to myself that I was aroused sexually, helplessly and terribly. The crowds, from time to time, surged closer to the palanquin. The guards, flanking the palanquin on both sides, pressed them back with the sides of spears. Among these guards, though he did not have a spear, was Drusus Rencius. He had been assigned to me, some weeks ago, as my personal guard. Behind the retinue, following it, came soldiers. Some of these had canvas sacks slung about their shoulders. From these sacks, from time to time, they would fling coins, and bits of coins, to the street. This was, I thought, a nice gesture. The people would scramble for these coins. It seemed they found them very precious. I continued to smile and wave to the crowd. From time to time, too, I stole a glance at Drusus Rencius. He, however, walking beside the palanquin, had eyes only for the crowd. Outside, perhaps, I seemed charming and benign. Inside, however, almost uncontrollable emotions raged within me. On what sort of world was this that I found myself I I had not known a woman could be so aroused! Again I looked at Drusus Rencius, and the others, guardsmen of Corcyrus. I wondered what it would be like to be owned by a man such as one of those. The thought almost made me faint with passion. I had no doubt they well knew bow to teach a woman her slavery. I would be kept by them by the lash, if necessary. 'Is anything amiss, my Tatrix?' inquired Ligurious.
'No,' I said. 'No!'
Then I continued, again, to smile and bow, to nod and wave to the crowd. I hoped that my condition was not evident to the stern, practical Ligurious, first minister of Corcyrus.
His maleness, and Goreanness, too, of course, were felt keenly by me.
At his least word I would have stripped myself in the silken palanquin and presented myself publicly to him for his pleasures.
Soon the procession began to wend its way back to the palace. One incident, perhaps worthy of note, occurred. A man rushed forth, angrily, from the crowd, to the very side of the palanquin. Drusus Rencius caught him there and flung him back. I screamed, startled. In a moment, the retinue stopped, the man was held by the arms, on his knees, at the side of the palanquin.
Swords were held at the man's neck. 'He is unarmed,' said Drusus Rencius. 'Down with Sheila, not Tatrix but Tyranness of Corcyrus!' cried the man, looking angrily upward.
'Silence!' said Ligurious.
'You shall pay for your crimes and cruelties!' cried the man. 'Not forever will the citizens of Corcyrus brook the outrages of the palace!'
'Treason!' cried Ligurious.
The man was struck at the side of the head by the butt of a spear. I cried out, in misery.
'This man is a babbling lunatic,' said Ligurious to me.
'Pay him no attention, my Tatrix.'
The fellow, his head bloody, sagged, half unconscious, in the grip of the soldiers.
'Bind him,' said Ligurious. The man's arms were wrestled behind his back and tied there.
He looked up, his bead bloody, from his knees.
'Who are you?' I asked.
'One who protests the crimes and injustice of Sheila, Tyranness of Corcyrus!' he said, boldly.
'He is Menicius, of the Metal Workers,' said one of the soldiers.
'Are you Menicius?' I asked.
'Yes,' said the man.
'Are you of Corcyrus?' I asked.
Yes,' said he, 'and once was proud to be!'
'What do you want?' I asked.
'Obviously it was his intention to do harm to his Tatrix,' said Ligurious. 'That is clear from his attack on the palanquin.'
'He was unarmed,' said Drusus Rencius.
'On a woman's throat,' said Ligurious, coldly, 'a man's bands need rest but a moment for dire work to be done.'
I put my finger tips lightly, inadvertently, to my throat. I did not doubt but what Ligurious was right. Assassination so simply might be accomplished. 'Why would you wish me harm?' I asked the man.
'I wish you no harm, Lady,' said he, surlily, 'save that you might get what you deserve, a collar in the lowest slave hole on Gor!'
'It is treason,' said Ligurious. 'His guilt is clear.'
