John Norman - Rogue of Gor

I moved the coin box, on the chain, which I held. There were now several coins in it. When she had been sent from the tavern it had been empty.

“Aemilianus himself used me,” she said. “He tied my hands tightly behind my back and took me to his private compartments. There he subjected me to slave rape.”

“Did he pay his coin?” asked Tasdron.

“Yes, Master,” she said, reddening.

“Did you please your customers?” asked Tasdron.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

“Did you yield to them,” asked Tasdron, “to Aemilianus, and the others?”

“Please do not make me speak, Master,” she begged. She was in the presence of Callimachus, whom she loved.

“Speak, Slave,” snapped Tasdron.

“Yes, Master,” she whispered, head down, “I yielded to them.”

“And well?” he asked.

“Yes, Master,” she said. “But I could not help myself, Master,” she wept. “I am a slave girl. I am only a slave girl!” She seemed to speak to Tasdron, but I knew well for whom her words were intended.

“I do not understand,” said Tasdron. “You are under an obligation to yield, and to yield perfectly, fully and totally. You are a slave.”

“Even were I not under such an obligation,” she whispered, “my Master, I still could not have helped myself. I would still have had to yield to them fully and totally, perfectly.”

“Of course,” said Tasdron. “You are a slave girl.”

“Yes, Master,” she whispered. “I am a slave girl.”

Then, head down, she trembled, and wept. How shamed she was that her slavery had been so clarified and manifested before Callimachus. I glanced to Callimachus. He did not seem concerned with the girl. What to him were the helpless confessions of a lovely, meaningless slave?

“Aemilianus is not here,” I said.

“When he unbound me and sent me from his compartments,” she said, “ordering me to return to my master, he did nothing but dismiss me. I do not know if he will come or not.”

“At least Aemilianus knows how to handle a woman,” said Tasdron.

“Yes, Master,” said the girl.

I put the chain, with the girl bell and coin box, on the low table. There was a sound of bells, and Tasdron had again locked slave bells on Peggy’s left ankle. He picked up the tiny bit of slave silk which we had, earlier, ordered her to remove, before disguising her as a Coin Girl and sending her into the streets to fetch Aemilianus to our meeting. He tossed her the bit of silk. “You may put on the silk,” he said.

“Yes, Master,” she said.

It amused me to see how gratefully she slipped the brief bit of scandalous, diaphanous yellow silk about her body, how pleased she was to do so, though it was naught but a laughable mockery of a garment, one fit obviously only for a female slave. Some free women think they would rather go naked than wear such a garment, but then they have not yet been made slaves. If they were slaves then they, too, I believe, would find it very precious.

“Bring us food and drink,” said Tasdron to Peggy.

“Yes, Master,” she said, and swiftly, with a rustle of bells, left the room.

“Where is Glyco?” asked Tasdron. “He had only to fetch Callisthenes, whom he knows. There should be no difficulty in that. They should have been here more than an Ahn ago.”

“I do not know,” I said.

“Perhaps they have met with foul play,” said Tasdron.

“I do not know,” I said.

“Spies are everywhere,” said Tasdron, miserably. “Perhaps our projects have already been uncovered.”

“The tavern has not yet been burned,” I pointed out.

“Oh, excellent,” said Tasdron, irritatedly.

I smiled.

“You understand the dangers implicit in these endeavors, do you not?” inquired Tasdron.

“I think so,” I said.

“There is someone now at the door, in the back,” said Callimachus.

Tasdron hurried through the rear door of the room, and down the corridor, to the alley door. He slid back a narrow panel, and then shut the panel, and opened the door. Two figures were admitted, and the door was closed and locked behind them. I recognized the figure of Glyco, portly and short-legged, breathing heavily, wrapped in a long brown cloak, which concealed the white and gold of the merchants, in advance.

The second man, tall and rangy, was he who had interrogated me in the headquarters of the men of Port Cos a few days earlier, when, on the asseverations of Miss Henderson, I had been taken into custody. I had been released after the testimonies afforded by Tasdron, who had made it clear to him that I, well known in Victoria, and having arrived from the east on the river, could not be the courier of Ragnar Voskjard.

He had also taken Miss Henderson into custody, as I recalled. He had turned her over to me, bound, when I had been released. I had not, however, slain her nor sold her into slavery. I had returned her to my house, unpunished and in honor. She was, after all, a woman of Earth. Later, of course, she had been captured by Kliomenes, the lieutenant to Policrates, the pirate, and taken to the stronghold of Policrates. There, in full Gorean legality, she had been again enslaved, as, months before, she had been in the House of Andronicus, in Vonda, when first she had been brought to Gor as a helpless Earth girl, to be branded and collared, and sold to Gorean brutes for their pleasure. Indeed, in my visit to the stronghold of Policrates, she had served me, and well, as a slave, though not knowing it was I whom she served. It was in that visit that I had learned that the little Earth beauty belonged in a collar.

The tall man, behind Glyco, entered the room. He wore a brown cloak over his uniform. In his left hand, held against his body, there was a helmet, crested with sleen hair.

I now knew him to be Callisthenes.

His left shoulder was hunched. His right hand, strong, long-fingered, wide, seemed fit for the hilt of the Gorean blade.

“Greetings, Callisthenes,” said Callimachus, rising to greet him.

“Greetings, Captain,” said Callisthenes. “Glyco told me that you would be in attendance.”

“I am no longer a captain,” said Callimachus. “It is now you who are the captain.”

“There are various captains in Port Cos,” grinned Callisthenes.

“How are the men?” asked Callimachus.

“They remember you, as I do,” said Callisthenes, “with warmth.”

The two men clasped hands. This pleased me, for I had feared there might be friction between them. It had been on the evidences supplied by Callisthenes that Callimachus had been removed from his command. Callimachus, however, bore him no ill will on this account. Callisthenes, in the circumstances, to the thinking of Callimachus, had had no choice in the matter. He had done his duty, as he should have, unpleasant and painful though it might have been for him.

“We used to drink together,” said Callimachus to Tasdron.

“It was largely on the recommendation of Callimachus, after he was relieved from his command,” said Callisthenes, “that I was promoted to the captaincy.”

“A noble act,” said Tasdron to Callimachus.

“He was the best qualified man to replace me,” said Callimachus. “Otherwise, in spite of my affection for him, I would not have acted as I did.”

“I have tried to live up to your trust,” said Callisthenes.

“To the trust of a fallen man, a drunkard?” smiled Callimachus.

“We shall always think of you as our captain,” said Callisthenes.

“You are a fine officer,” said Callimachus, “and it is a splendid command.”

“You taught me much,” said Callisthenes, “and you trained it well.”

Again the two men clasped hands, warmly.

I stood to one side, not speaking.