John Norman - Rogue of Gor

Tasdron looked at Callimachus.

“Water,” said Callimachus.

“Black wine,” I said. I thought it best to keep my head clear until the conclusion of our evening’s business.

“Black wine,” said Tasdron.

“Yes, Master,” said the girl, and hurried away.

“It is just as well not to have paga this night,” said Tasdron.

“I think so,” smiled Callimachus.

“Do you fear it?” asked Tasdron.

“Of course,” said Callimachus. “I am not a fool.”

“I would have thought you feared nothing,” said Tasdron.

“Only a fool fears nothing,” said Callimachus.

“What do you know of Callisthenes?” I asked Callimachus.

“He is a captain, a guardsman of Port Cos,” said Callimachus. “He is skilled with the sword. He is shrewd, I regard him as a good officer.”

“It was he, was it not,” I asked, “who acceded to your command in Port Cos, following your being relieved of your duties?”

“It was,” smiled Callimachus, “but I assure you I shall not hold that against him, nor will it interfere with my capacity to work closely with him.”

“If he chooses to work with you,” I said.

“Of course,” shrugged Callimachus.

“Do you think he will remember you?” I asked.

“I would think so,” said Callimachus, ruefully.

“It was evidence brought against Callisthenes in Port Cos five years ago by Callimachus,” said Tasdron, “which cost him an early promotion, a matter of minor peculation.”

“Such things are not unknown,” said Callimachus, “but I chose not to accept them in my command.”

“I understand,” I said. I had a respect for caste honor. Honor was honor, in small things as well as great. Indeed, how can one practice honor in great things, if not in small things?

“And later,” said Tasdron, “it was the testimonies of Callisthenes which resulted in Callimachus’ loss of command.”

“He did his duty, as I had done mine, earlier,” said Callimachus. “I cannot, as a soldier, hold that against him. My only regret is that I had not resigned my command in that way I might have precluded the disgrace of the hearing, the admonishment of my fellow officers, the embarrassment of being publicly relieved of my duties.”

“Be these as they may,” said Tasdron, “they surely do no bode well for the future of our plans.”

“It cannot be helped,” said Callimachus. “If you wish I shall withdraw from participation in these matters.”

“Nonsense,” said Tasdron. “You are well remembered, and with affection, in Port Cos. I know this from Glyco. Why else do you think he sought you in Victoria?”

“I pledge you that I will work well with Callisthenes,” said Callimachus.

“What do you know of Aemilianus of Ar’s Station?” I asked Callimachus and Tasdron.

“Victoria is closer to Port Cos than Ar’s Station,” said Tasdron. “Indeed, Ar is substantially a land power. We know little of men such as Aemilianus. I have heard that he is a good officer.”

“I know nothing of him,” said Callimachus, his voice slightly hardening, “save that he is from Ar.”

“Your Cosian sympathies are showing,” I cautioned him. “Nothing will be much advanced if you and this fellow find it necessary to slice one another into pieces.”

“Particularly in my tavern,” grumbled Tasdron.

“The immediate problem remains,” said Callimachus “How can we contact this Aemilianus, and bring him to this meeting, without attracting the attention of the spies of Policrates?”

“We have no choice, I think,” said Tasdron, “but to contact him directly and take what risks are unavoidable.”

“Even so,” said Callimachus, “do you think that he, a warrior of Ar, a captain, will simply disguise himself and hurry off to a rendezvous in Victoria? He is surely aware that many in Victoria bear those of Ar little love. He will be suspicious.”

“He will doubtless demand that the meeting be held in his headquarters,” said Tasdron.

“Then all we have to do,” said Callimachus, bitterly, “is to convince Callisthenes to put himself in the power of the men of Ar’s Station.”

“He may be bolder than we think,” I said.

“I do not understand,” said Tasdron.

“For what purpose has he come to Victoria?” I asked.

“To find the topaz,” said Tasdron.

“I have a plan,” I said.

“What?” said Tasdron.

“Do you have the common keys to the collars and bells of your girls on the premises?” I asked.

“Surely,” said Tasdron.

I then drew from my pouch a piece of silk. It was heavy, from what it was wrapped about. I placed it carefully on the table. “I think the matter will not be as difficult as you might suspect,” I said.

“I understand,” said Tasdron. He eyed the silk wrapped object which I had placed upon the table. He had detected the telltale sound.

“Masters,” said Peggy, approaching the table, kneeling beside it, bearing a tray. She placed the tray on the table, and removed three plates of bread and meat from it, a dish of assorted cheeses, a bowl of dates, a pitcher of water, a pot of black wine, steaming, and tiny vessels of sugars and creams, and three goblets. On the table, too, she placed small spoons, of silver, from Tharna, for use with the black wine, and, at each place, a kailiauk-horn-handled eating prong, from distant Turia. Finger towels, then, and silver fingerbowl, too, she placed upon the table. The bowl was also of Tharnan silver. When she had placed these things on the table, she looked about, still kneeling, and saw me close the door to the room, locking her within, with us. She suddenly trembled. She knew that she was a slave, and that absolutely anything could be done with her.

“Leave the tray where it is,” said Tasdron. “Remove your silk, and remain kneeling.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, swiftly slipping the silk back from her shoulders.

She reddened, kneeling as a naked slave before the man she loved. Yet he looked upon her as though she might be any girl casually stripped by the command of a master.

I smiled to myself. Peggy had obeyed immediately and unhesitantly. Gorean slave girls do not dally in their compliance.

I unwrapped then the object from the silk on the table. There was the sound of the metal clapper in the narrow, flattish, triangular-shaped bell, the rustle of the chain and lock, the sound of the small, metal, sturdy, rectangular, locked coin box. I dangled the chain, the girl bell and the coin box before her eyes.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked her.

“Yes, Master,” she whispered, frightened.

“Excellent,” said Tasdron, “excellent,” and he rose from the table, letting himself out of the room with a key, by means of a side door, one which led up a flight of stairs, presumably to private compartments. He locked the door behind him. He would return shortly with the keys to her bells and collar.

“Stand, Slave,” I said.

Peggy stood, beautifully.

Tasdron crouched beside her left ankle and, with his key, removed the slave bells from her left ankle. Such bells are seldom put on by the slave or removed by the slave. Almost always they are put on or removed by one who is in authority over the slave. The girl seldom puts them on or removes them; rather it is hers to wear them, and as a slave, for as long or briefly as masters see fit.

I then, not hurrying, lifted the heavy chain, with its bell and box, about the girl’s neck. I stood behind her. I then, not yet dropping the chain about her neck, but holding it about her neck, closed the lock. She shuddered. It was on her, though she could not yet feel its weight as I had not yet released it, that it might fall against the back of her neck. Tasdron then, with a key, removed his collar from her throat. I then dropped the chain about her neck. The heavy black links were obdurate against the small, soft hairs on the back of her slender, lovely neck. I then threw her hair back again, in place. I then walked about her, and before her. She who had once been Peggy Baxter, of Earth, then stood before me in the apparatus of a Gorean coin girl.