'No,' he said.
I then entered the slave wagon. The door was shut behind me. Inside, in the darkness, I turned and knelt by the door, putting my fingers against it. I heard the door being locked, and then heard his steps descending the stairs. I had apparently served my purpose for the evening! I had now been 'kenneled,' he had not even permitted me to speak! He treated me as a slave! Then I drew back from the door, and found a bit of bread in the pan. I also felt a slice of raw vegetable. I ate these, and then took some water. I then relieved myself at the bucket in the other part of the wagon, and then lay down in the center of the wagon, on the blankets. The wagon was dark, and a firm prison, but it was not uncomfortable.
I awakened once in the middle of the night. He had treated me as a slave! But then, of course, that was what I was. I was a slave. Then I returned to sleep.
32 The Camp
'You are dressed suitably as a slave,' he said.
'Yes, Master,' I said. I was in the belt and cloth. On my neck was still the collar of Ionicus. I knelt in the camp, at his feet. I was tied much as Fulvius had tied me earlier, and as he had tied Tupita last night, wrists crossed and bound behind me, fastened closely to my crossed, bound ankles.
He then looked after the slave wagon. I could not see it now, but I could hear it, in the distance, descending toward the road. I could see the narrow print of its wheels in the leaves. A moment or two ago, drawn by its tharlarion, it had left camp. Mirus had been on the wagon box, Tupita beside him, in a tunic fashioned of one of the blankets which had been inside the wagon. My eyes were still moist from their departure. Tupita, her hands braceleted behind her, had knelt and kissed me. 'I wish you well, Tuka,' she had said. 'I wish you well, too, Tupita,' I had said. Mirus had then crouched near me and kissed me. 'I wish you well, slave,' he had said. 'I wish you well, Master,' I had said. They had then left. Tupita and I could not wave to one another as our restraints did not permit it, but we exchanged a common slave girls' farewell, kissing one another, tears in our eyes. Most of the coins and valuables which had fallen to the stranger as sword loot he had divided with Mirus. The wagon and tharlarion, too, would surely have value. Such things should give Mirus more than enough means to make Brundisium. Too, it was good for Mirus to have the wagon, at least for a few days, until his strength might be fully recovered. 'They are gone now,' he said. The wagon, then, I gathered, must be out of sight, even from his vantage, standing. Doubtless it would soon be on the road.
There was a soft wind, rustling the leaves.
I looked up at him. we were alone.
He reached to his mask. He removed it. Sempronius and Callisthenes had left three days ago. Mirus and Tupita had now gone. None of these, I supposed, would be able to recognize him again, unless perhaps by his skill with the sword. He had concealed his features, and his identity. It would be difficult for anyone, in the future, if they were so inclined, to connect him with the transactions in the meadow. To be sure, he might be a simple brigand. If so, he was an extremely dangerous one.
He looked down at me, the mask in his hand. 'Perhaps you remember,' he said, 'that I once told you that there was a world where woman like you were bought and sold.'
'Yes, Master,' I said. He had spoken in English. It had taken me a moment, a frightened moment, to realize that. then I had made the transition from Gorean to English.
'And have you been bought and sold?' he asked.
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'And how is my modern woman,' he asked.
'Only as much is left in me of the modern woman as you might wish,' I said, 'only as much as you might wish to recollect, and then, if it pleases you, to humble or hurt me.'
He smiled. 'I see that you have learned to be concerned to please men,' he said. 'Yes, Master,' I said.
'You look well, tied helplessly,' he said.
'Thank you, Master,' I said.
'Have you been taught much on Gor?' he asked.
'Yes, Master,' I said.
'And have you been taught to throw your legs apart quickly?' he asked. 'Yes, Master,' I said.
'You danced well last night,' he said.
'Thank you, Master,' I said. I was so pleased that he was pleased!
'What do you call that sort of dance?' he asked.
'Slave dance,' I said, in Gorean.
'In English,' he said. 'We are speaking English.'
'Ethnic dance,' I said.
He smiled.
'Belly dance,' I said.
'Are you a belly dancer?' he asked.
'Yes,' I said.
'Say so,' he said.
'I am a belly dancer,' I said.
'Do you love to belly dance?' he asked.
'Yes,' I said.'Say so,' he said.
'I love to belly dance,' I said, reddening. But then I looked at him, gratefully. I was a belly dancer! I was! And I did love to belly dance! How free I suddenly felt, and happy, that I had now said these things, that I had confessed them to myself, honestly, openly, in my native language.
'Perhaps, sometime,' he said. 'I will permit you to dance for me.' 'A slave would be pleased,' I said, 'if she might so please her master.' 'How naturally you speak of yourself as a slave,' he said, 'I am a slave, Master,' I said.
'Yes,' he said. 'You are. I knew that the first moment I had my eyes on you.' I looked down, shyly. I remembered the first moment I had seen him, looking up from the desk, seeing him there, before me, I in the dark sweater and the long-sleeved blouse, he in the dark suit, with a tie, such things seemingly so ungainly on him. He had looked at me in a Gorean fashion. I had felt I might have been stripped naked before him. if I had known then what I knew now I would have felt slave naked before him, as though I had just been stripped for slave assessment, that masters might decide what I might realistically be expected to bring them on the block. It was shortly after this experience that I had fearfully enrolled myself in a class in belly dancing. Somehow, probably in the depths of my subconscious, I wanted to do almost anything I could, to learn how to please such a man, and surely dancing beautifully before him, vital and half-clad, might contribute to such an end.
When I looked up he was still looking down at me. He was looking at me, musingly, studying me.
I was silent. I had not been spoken to.
He tossed the mask he had worn to the side, among his things. He then crouched down before me.
'Master,' I whispered, begging, pulling against the ropes.
He removed the cloth belt and slave strip from me and tossed them, too, to the side, among his things. He owned them, even such small things, not I.
He then moved back a little, and looked at me.
'You have become very beautiful,' he said.
'Thank you, Master,' I said.
'Apparently the Gorean diet, the movements of slave dance, the attentions of masters, and such, have much improved you,' he said.'It is my hope that I have been improved,' I said.
'Your ears have been pierced,' he said.
'As befits me, Master,' I said.
He smiled.
I saw that he was pleased that my ears had been pierced. I rejoiced in his pleasure.
'Greetings, Miss Williamson,' he said.
