a slave offers wine, and herself, to a master. The fellow gasped, and seemed shaken by this, the sight of the beauty so before him. I almost feared he might fall, so beautiful she was. Never I suspect had he had a woman so before him. In that instance I think he may have first begun to sense the glories, the exultancies, the fittingness, the perfections and powers of the mastery. I watched Lavinia surrender the note to him. it was almost as though it were her own note, offered pleadingly to him on her own behalf, and not putatively the note of another, in whose transit and delivery she was merely humble courier. To be sure, she had written the note herself. I was much puzzled by her behavior. I was also much impressed by it. I had never hitherto realized she was that beautiful.
'You have delivered your note, slut!' said one of the men, angrily. 'Now, be off with you!'
'Yes, Master!' she said.
He drew back his hand, angrily, as though contemplating giving her a cuff. 'Yes, Master!' she said, and scrambled to her feet, not at all gracefully, in her haste, and raced past me, going west on Tarn Court. Clearly she would not have relished further attentions from the fellow. Already she was a bruised, thrice-kicked slave. I do not think that he intended striking her that time, incidentally, but was only threatening to do so. The threat, however, had been sufficient to speed her on her way, and had she not leaped up and departed with suitable dispatch I did not doubt but what her lovely face in an instant, flashing and burning scarlet, might have suffered the sting, and perhaps more than once, of that ready, harsh masculine hand.
'She is pretty,' said one of the fellows, he who had questioned her, looking after her.
'But she is only a female,' said the other, he who had threatened her.
'And a slave,' said he who had questioned her.
'Yet they are the prettiest and best, ' said he who had threatened her.
'Yes,' said he who had questioned her. 'There is no comparison.'
The handsome slave stood in the street, under the trellises, in the light and shade, looking after the slave, wonderingly. In his hand, neglected, was the note. It seemed he could not take his eyes off the retreating figure of Lavinia. Could it be that he found her of interest, and in the most profoundly sexual way in which a man may find a woman of interest, of slave interest? I had not counted on that. I trusted that this would not disrupt my plans.
'Read the note,' ordered one of the fellows.
Absently, almost as though not aware of his surroundings, except for the now tiny figure of the slave, hurrying away, he opened the note. He could, apparently, read. I had counted on that. He was a high slave. Too, it would have been difficult for him, I supposed, as he was a well-known actor, to have learned parts without being able to read. To be sure, some actors do, having the parts read to them, and they memorizing them from the hearing of the lines. This is particularly the case with women, as most parts of women on the Gorean stage, other than those in high theater, which tend to be acted by boys or men, are acted by female slaves, many of whom cannot read. Also, of course, as is well known, singers, scalds in the north, and such, transmit even epics orally. Because there are many Goreans who cannot read, many stores, shops, and such, will utilize various signs and devices to identify their place of business. For example, a large, wooden image of a paga goblet may hang outside a tavern, a representation of a hammer and anvil outside a metal-worker's shop, one of a needle and thread outside a cloth-worker's shop, and so on. I have known extremely intelligent men on Gor, incidentally, who could not read. Illiteracy, or, more kindly, an inability to read and write, is not taken on Gor as a mark of stupidity. These things tend rather, in many cases, to be associated with the caste structure and cultural traditions. Some warriors, as I have indicated earlier, seem to feel it is somewhat undignified for them to know how to read, or, at least, how to read well, perhaps because that sort of thing is more in the line of, say, the scribes. One hires a warrior for one thing, one hires a scribe for another. One does not expect a scribe to know the sword. Why, then, should one expect the warrior to know the pen? An excellent example of this sort of thing is the caste of musicians which has, as a whole, resisted many attempts to develop and standardize a musical notation. Songs and melodies tend to be handed down within the caste, from one generation to another. If something is worth playing, is it worth remembering, they say. On the other hand, I suspect that they fear too broad a dissemination of the caste knowledge. Physicians, interestingly, perhaps for a similar reason, tend to keep records in archaic Gorean, which is incomprehensible to most Goreans. Many craftsmen, incidentally, keep such things as formulas for certain kinds of glass and alloys, and manufacturing processes, generally, in cipher. Merchant law has been unsuccessful, as yet, in introducing such things as patents and copyrights on Gor. Such things do exist in municipal law on Gor but the jurisdictions involved are, of course, local.
'What does it say?' asked the fellow.
The slave clutched it to him. 'It is private,' he said, 'and, I fear, personal.' 'Let me see,' said one of the fellows.
'Better that only I and Appanius see this,' he said. He seemed white-faced, shaken.
'Very well,' said the fellow who had spoken, stepping back. He had judged from the slave's response, it seemed, that the matter was not one for just anyone to press.
'Is it important?' asked the other fellow.
'I am afraid,' said the slave.
'Let us return to the house,' said the first fellow.
They then again took their way east on tarn Court and, in a bit, once beyond the trelliswork, went to the right side of the street, which now, given the lateness of the afternoon sun, was the shady side. Normally Goreans keep to the left sides of streets and roads, as is proper, given that most men are right-handed. In this fashion the sword arm is on the side of the stranger. A similar, interesting historical detail, though are particularly pertinent to Gor, as most Gorean garments have buttons, is that, on Earth, men's shirts, jackets, coats, and such, have the buttons on the right side, so that the opening of the garment is held down, and to the right. This is because the sheath of the knife or sword is, by right-handed men, commonly worn on the left, facilitating the across-the-body draw to the right. In this arrangement of the garment's fastenings, thusly, the hand, or sleeve, or guard of the weapon, will not be caught or impeded in its passage to the ready position. A similar provision does occur, incidentally, in various Gorean garments, having to do with pins, brooches and such. Also the male tunic of the wraparound variety has its overlap to the right, presumably for a similar reason. Warriors, in situations of danger, commonly carry the scabbard over the left shoulder. The scabbard is held with the left hand and the draw takes place with the right. The scabbard and strap is then discarded, to be recovered, if practical, later. Obviously the scabbard attached to a belt is not only an encumbrance but it is something which someone else might seize, cling to, and perhaps use to his advantage.
I watched them withdraw. I was not even certain that the slave would show the note to Appanius. On the other hand, since he had been witnessed in receiving it, which I had not known would happen, it seemed highly likely he would do so. My plans, as I had laid them, of course, did not require that the note be seen by Appanius. Appanius did, of course, figure significantly in my plans. The note did not, as far as Appanius was concerned. It could do its work with or without his knowledge.
I now went west on Tarn Court.
In a few Ehn I had come to the rendezvous point, on Varick, west of Aulus, which I had arranged with Lavinia. I waited there, near the doorways. She would not be loitering in the vicinity, of course, as that would attract attention. She would, rather, pass this point at certain intervals, in one direction or another. She may have passed it once or twice already. I would then, in the concealment of one of the doorways, put her in the small cloak she had worn before, now folded in my wallet, and we would then make our way home.
I observed her approaching.
How beautiful she had been, how fetching she was now.
'Master,' she said.
'In here,' I said, gesturing to the doorway.
She stepped within the sheltered area and I took her by the upper arms and turned her about, and thrust her back, sharply, against the wall, to the right. 'Master?' she said.
I looked down into her eyes. I held her by the upper arms, facing me, slave close. It is not unpleasant to hold a woman thusly. There were the tracks of tears, some only half dried, on her cheeks. She had thus wept even after leaving Tarn Court, probably while hurrying along.
'You are fortunate that you were not cuffed,' I said.
'Yes, Master,' she said.
'You are not unattractive,' I said.
