John Norman - Vagabonds of Gor

I stepped aside to let a cage wagon roll by, going to the wagon yard. There were seven women in it, apparently free women, stripped.

"The camp does not open officially for another Ahn," said a fellow.

"What is going on?" asked another fellow, a slaver's man.

"Nothing," I said.

"Have you seen a blond slave in a brown tunic?" asked one of them, of me.

"Why do you ask?" I asked.

"There are several fellows about," he said, "looking for her."

"If I should see her," said one of the fellows, he who had apprised me that the camp was not yet officially open, "I will get her in slave hobbles in no time."

"There may be a reward," said another fellow.

"Yes," agreed another.

"Everyone will be looking for her," said the first fellow.

"She cannot escape the camp," said another.

"She will be apprehended momentarily," said another.

"Yes," said another.

In a moment or two, I stopped a few yards from a registration desk. There one of Ina's pursuers, I recognized him from earlier, was making inquiries of one of the five camp prefects, fellows under the camp praetor. The perfects are identified by five slash marks, alternately blue and yellow, the slavers' colors, on their left sleeve, the praetor himself by nine such stripes, and lesser officials by three. Turning about, apparently alerted by the prefect's notice, the fellow with one hand suddenly turned the prefect's desk to its side so that it stood wall-like between us, and hurried behind it.

"Begone!" he cried. "It is no longer a concern of yours! Begone!"

I advanced on him and he turned and fled.

The prefect, not much pleased, looked after him. Then he turned to face me. "No," he said, "I know nothing about a runaway blond slave."

I nodded. Runaway slaves, incidentally, are extremely rare on Gor. That is the sort of absurdity which even the most stupid girl is likely to try no more than once. It is not merely that Gorean masters tend not to be tolerant of such behavior in their female slaves, but that there is really nowhere to run. The society is tightly knit, the girl is marked, and so on. The girl is extremely likely to be returned promptly in chains to her rightful master, to be subjected in terror to the consequences of his displeasure, or, if not, to be kept or sold for the pleasure or profit of others, usually to serve them then in a custody far more severe, fearful and arduous than that which was her former lot. The slave girl on Gor soon learns, if she does not already know, the categoricality of her condition, that it is for all practical purposes, and for all realistic possibilities, inescapable, inalterable and absolute.

"Would you like me to have a search organized?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"Perhaps you would like to have a general announcement made?" he said.

"No," I said.

"What would you have done with that fellow, if you had caught him?" he asked.

"Kill him," I said.

I then continued my search.

I was not optimistic about its successful conclusion. By now it seemed likely that someone, somewhere in this large camp, might well have her in custody. She could be lying somewhere now, trussed like a vulo in a market. Indeed, if any of her original pursuers had apprehended her, she might be dead. The fellow from whom I had saved her, when she had fled from my side toward the pursuers, had been clearly ready to slay her. Indeed, he had attempted to do so. I had barely managed to block his blow. She had then fled back and I, and, I gathered, the others, had lost her, at least for the time.

I strode into one of the holding areas.

Girls back-braceleted to stakes pulled back their legs as I moved past. Some front-braceleted to stakes quickly pressed against them, or crawled to the other side. Others, their wrists chained about bars, lay close to them. Others, back from the main aisles, chained in numbered spaces on racks, observed me.

"May I help you?" asked a fellow.

"I am looking for a female," I said, "a blond girl, in a brown tunic, with a strap collar, who fled from me."

"Unbidden?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"I would not care to be her," he said.

"Could she have sneaked into a slave box here?" I asked.

"They are locked," he said, "and the keys are either out, or on my belt."

I then left the holding area. Ina, to be sure, might have discarded her brown tunic. She had quite possibly done so. She could not, of course, discard the collar.

Where, I asked myself, might such a wench hide?

She might, I thought, have attempted to hide in the infirmary.

On the way to the infirmary I passed a mat area where a girl on her stomach, to the snapping of a whip, was being taught to lift her body placatingly. Later, when the camp was officially open and crowded the mat areas are often used for trying out slaves.

Before reaching the infirmary I also passed an area where there was a coffle of girls. The first girls on the chain were in tears and others, toward the end, were looking toward the beginning of the chain, apprehensively. One girl, toward the center of the chain was standing very still, tears streaming down her cheeks. A slaver's man with a bowl of lather and a razor was shaving her, completely. Her head had already been shaved. These girls were doubtless to be part of the cargo of a slave ship, probably bound for Cos or Tyros. The shaving is for hygienic reasons, to protect them in the crowding and the filth, on the shelves, from parasites. Even so they are usually submerged in a slave dip shortly after landing.

I saw one of Ina's pursuers but he, seeing me, hurried in another direction.

Continuing toward the infirmary I passed a small punishment area. There were several such in the camp. Such areas interestingly, are seldom used. That they exist seems more than sufficient for most girls. In this one there was a woman chained by the neck to a post. Other than this she was sitting with her back to the post in a common slave tie, her arms down between her thighs, her left wrist passing under her left calf and tied on the outside of her left ankle, the right wrist passing under the right calf and tied on the outside of the right ankle. I have seen this tie used even in the Barrens, by the red savages on their white female slaves. The woman looked at me in terror. She feared, I suppose, that I was he who had come to mete out her punishment. She may have been waiting for Ahn, in ignorance not only of he who was to administer her punishment but also, probably, even of what the punishment was to be. In the tie I have mentioned, incidentally, the woman is not only rendered totally helpless but her sense of vulnerability is considerably increased. In it she cannot close her legs. This latter aspect, of course, is a feature of several popular slave ties.

"May I help you?" asked a fellow.

He had a small booth, specializing in slave harnesses. I thought Ina would look well in one.

"Have you seen a blond slave, loose?" I asked.

"No," he said.

I made to turn away.

"Have you lost one?" he asked.

"Perhaps," I said.

"If you had had her in one of my harnesses," he said, "you would still have her in your keeping."

"Doubtless," I said.

"I have a lovely chain model here," he said.

I was then at the infirmary. I had not known if it would be practical place to hide or not. I found that it was not. There the girls lay on wooden pallets, on the ground, chained to them by the wrists, ankles and neck. They were helpless and in plain view. There was no way that Ina could have managed to hide there.

I then heard, from several yards away, some shouts and screams. I swiftly sped toward the place.

In a moment or two I saw several of the fellows who had been after Ina angrily thrusting tiered slave cages about, some of them even climbing among them, several feet above the ground. I wondered if they might have caught sight of her among them. It was not the sort of place I would have expected Ina to hide, the crevices between the backs of such cages being rather open, and often serving as urt courses, and such, but who knew?