'Surely,' he said.
'When, next, do you think he might be holding public audiences?' I asked. 'Two days from now,' said the fellow.
'Is it a court day?' I asked.
'Better than that,' he said. 'It is one of the new holidays, the day of Generosity and Petitions.'
'Excellent,' I said.
'The audiences are held near the Central Cylinder, on the Avenue of the Central Cylinder,' he said.
'Thank you,' I said.
'Did you wish to speak to him about something?' asked the man.
'I thought it would be nice,' I said, 'at least to look upon him.' 'He is a charming fellow,' said the man.
'I am sure of it,' I said.
'Many minor petitions are granted,' he said, 'and some of the major ones. To be sure, it depends wholly, at least in the major cases, upon the justice of the petition.'
'I understand,' I said.
'Those wishing to present petitions must take a place on the rope,' he said. 'What is that?' I asked.
'Obviously the regent cannot give an audience to everyone,' he said. 'Those who are granted audiences wear the Gnieus Lelius Generosity Ribbon which encircles them and is tied about the rope, actually a velvet cable, leading to the dais. This helps to keep the line straight and, as the audiences are held out of doors, controls the number of petitioners.'
'I understand,' I said. 'How does one obtain a position on the rope?' I asked. 'Sometimes it is a nasty business,' said the man.
'Good,' said Hurtha, approvingly.
'I suppose it is a good idea to come early?' I said.
'Some people are there from the fourteenth Ahn the day before,' he said. 'I see,' I said. 'Thank you, Citizen.'
'You might try the Ally of the Slave Brothels of Ludmilla. That is behind the Avenue of Turia.'
'What?' I said.
'For lodging,' he said.
'Oh,' I said.
'Do you know where it is?' he asked.
'I know where the Avenue of Turia is,' I said. It is named for the city in the southern hemisphere, incidentally, doubtless as a gesture of amicability on the part of Ar. Stately Tur trees, appropriately enough, line its walks. It is a broad avenue with fountains. It is well known for its exclusive shops. 'It is in the vicinity of the Street of Brands.'
'That is the one,' he said. The Street of Brands, incidentally, can be a particular street, but, generally, as in Ar, it is a district, one which has received its name from its dealings in slaves, and articles having to do with slaves. In it, commonly, are located the major slave houses of a city. To it, slavers may take their catches. In it, on a wholesale or retail basis, one may purchase slaves. Similarly one may bid upon them in a public auction. The major markets are there. For example, the Curulean is there. One may also rent and board slaves there. It is there, too, in the confines of the houses, that girls are often trained superbly and thoroughly in the intimate arts of giving exquisite pleasures to masters. Too, of course, in such a district, one may purchase such articles as appropriate cosmetics for slaves, suitable simple but attractive jewelry, fit for slaves, in particular, earrings which, in Gorean eyes, so fasten a woman's degradation helplessly upon her, appropriate perfumes, slave silk, and such. Too, it is in such a district that one will find a wide variety of other articles helpful in the identification, keeping, training and disciplining of females, such things as collars, of the fixed and lock variety, leashes, of metal and leather, neck, wrist and ankle, ranging from simple guide thongs to stern control devices, wrist belts and ankle belts, yokes and leg-stretchers, waist-and-wrist stocks, iron belts, to prevent her penetration without the master's permission, linked bracelets, with long chains and short chains, body chains, pleasure shackles, multicolored, silken binding cords, some cored with chain, and, of various types, for various purposes, whips.
'My thanks,' I said. 'We will try it.'
'I wish you well,' he said.
'I, too, wish you well,' I said.
He then went about his business. The woman near us, sitting on a blanket on the stones, her basket of suls before her, looked up. 'Do you want suls?' she asked. 'No,' I said.
'Be gone, then,' she said.
'Come along,' I said to my party. I led them east on Venaticus, to the Avenue of the Central Cylinder. It was then my intention to go south on that avenue until I came to Wagon Street, taking it east to Turia. There is more than one 'wagon Street' in Ar, incidentally, but the one I had in mind, that which led to the Street of Brands, was the one usually called Wagon Street. The 'wagon streets' are generally east-west streets. They are called that, I suppose, because they are open to wagon traffic during the day, and wide enough for two wagons to pass on them. On many streets in Ar wagon traffic is discouraged during daylight hours because of their narrowness. There is little difficulty, of course, with the avenues and boulevards. They are generally wider. Many girls, incidentally, have been on Wagon Street, being brought down it on their first trip to Ar, though perhaps they did not see much of it, their ankles chained to the central bar in the blue-and-yellow slave wagons, those delivering them, according, say to the disk numbers on their collars, or the addresses marked on their left breasts, to the various houses on the Street of Brands. 'Ah!' said Boabissia.
'The Avenue of the Central Cylinder,' I said. 'It is indeed beautiful. We will go right here.'
'I am thirsty,' said Hurtha, going toward a fountain. We followed him. There are many among this avenue.
Hurtha leaned his ax against the fountain and thrust his head half in the water and then pulled it out sputtering. He then splashed water on his face. Then, cupping his hands, he drank. I drank, too. And Boabissia, too, drank, lifting water delicately to her lips. I saw that in our company she had learned something of her femininity. It seemed that she was beginning, timidly and hopefully, to suspect and experience the true nature of her sexuality, that she might now be daring to think of fulfilling her softness and nature, daring to think of what it might to be, fully and truly, what she actually was, a female. She, at any rate, was no longer attempting, grotesquely, and laughably, to emulate the behavior of an Alar warrior.
'May I drink, Master?' asked Feiqa.
'Certainly,' I said. Then, suddenly, angry, scandalized, I seized her by the hair. She cried out in pain, twisting.
'Are you not a beast?' I asked.
'Yes, Master!' she wept.
'And only that?' I inquired.
'Yes, Master! she cried.
I then flung her to her knees at my feet, and with my foot spurned her to the stones. She lay there, startled on her side, my pack awry on her back, near the fountain. 'Master?' she asked, tears in her eyes.
'You are a best,' I said. 'You drink from the lower bowl, like other animals, like sleen and tharlarion.'
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'What a stupid slave,' said Boabissia.
'Forgive me, Master,' wept Feiqa.
I regarded her. She was quite attractive, and she had good legs. There was little doubt of that the way she lay on the stones. She was terrified, the former Lady Charlotte, once a rich, high citizeness of Samnium, now the mere beast, mine and collared, Feiqa. She looked up at me in terror. She had grievously erred.
'That was good,' said Hurtha, wiping his mouth.
'Master?' asked Feiqa.
'Tonight,' I told her. 'You will be whipped,'
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'A chair, with soldiers, is coming,' said Boabissia.
We saw some folks gathering about to watch, but leaving a path for the movement of the chair and soldiers. It was an enclosed sedan chair, its silken curtains drawn. It was borne on long poles slung in tandem fashion
