John Norman - Kur of Gor

"Stay, Lord Grendel!” pleaded Lord Arcesilaus.

Lord Grendel had turned away, and a moan escaped him.

Cabot's heart was torn for his friend, and he, too, turned aside, that he might tender him some minim of comfort, however inadequate it must be.

"Oh!” cried Corinna, softly.

"Ahh!” breathed Cecily.

"Ai, well!” cried several of the men. The Kurii were largely silent, having little or no reaction. Cabot then heard the striking of hands on the left shoulder, surely from the human males present.

Cabot steeled himself, and turned about.

The small figure had lifted back her hood and lowered her veils, of which there were indeed two, a street veil, and a house veil. They now hung about her neck. She shook loose long blond hair, and looked upon the group.

She smiled.

"Lord Grendel!” cried Cabot. “Lord Grendel!"

"Your barbarous knives,” said the scientist to Cabot, “could not accomplish that. It is done with the hereditary coils, with their innate equations. One stimulates the hereditary coils, and the restoration is accomplished from within. Too, in this fashion, one does not risk changes which might be brought about by knife work, whether clumsy or not. If you wish changes, of course, that can be arranged, by the insertion of fresh elements into the hereditary coils, but we supposed it appropriate, and sufficient, in this case, to let things develop naturally. Who are we to guess what humans would or would not regard as an improvement? So we contented ourselves with a simple restoration. It was not difficult. Growth is stimulated. It is rather, again, then, as though childhood became adolescence, and adolescence became youth. We would have preferred a long, glossy pelting but then she is a human female, and we felt that it would have been improper for us, in her case, to simulate the beauty of a Kur female. Too, it would have required a great many adjustments. It is done, as I mentioned, by means of the hereditary coils."

"Lord Grendel!” said Cabot. “Lord Grendel, turn about, and see! Look, Lord Grendel, look!"

Lord Grendel slowly, trembling, turned about.

"You are in the presence of a free woman!” said Cabot to Cecily, and Cecily quickly put her head down, to the dais. At a sign from Peisistratus, Corinna did so, as well, and the other slaves, even the Kur female slaves, did so, as well.

The Lady Bina smiled, again.

"How beautiful she is!” said a fellow.

The Lady Bina stood before the group, her veil descended, her hood put back, and was again as once she had been, incredibly fair, and marvelously beautiful.

She was, again, then, as she had been in the container, in the collar of Lord Arcesilaus, when she was his pet, as she had been elsewhere, in the game world, in the camps, as she had been in many places, before her encounter with the lumbering, bestial cattle humans.

"We hoped you would be pleased,” said Lord Arcesilaus.

A sob escaped Lord Grendel.

"You are pleased, are you not?” asked Lord Arcesilaus, concerned.

"Yes,” said Lord Grendel.

"You are looking well, Lady,” said Tarl Cabot.

"I trust you, too, are well,” she said.

The Lady Bina then said to the slaves, “You may lift your heads, girls."

"Thank you, Mistress,” said Corinna, and the other slaves.

The Lady Bina then looked directly upon Cecily.

"Thank you, Mistress,” said Cecily.

"What is your name?” asked the Lady Bina.

"'Cecily', Mistress,” said Cecily, “—if it pleases Mistress."

As the Lady Bina was not the owner of the brunette slave, she would not, of course, be authorized to name her. The slave's response, however, was not an unaccustomed one to such an inquiry, and, in its way, acknowledged that she was such as might be named as masters, or mistresses, might please.

"You are pretty, Cecily,” said the Lady Bina.

"Thank you, Mistress,” said Cecily.

"Very pretty, Cecily,” she said.

"Thank you, Mistress,” said Cecily.

"I seem to remember you from a container,” said the Lady Bina, as though with some difficulty attempting to recall the matter, “when you naively, in your presumptuous and foolish vanity, dared to consider yourself a free woman."

"Yes, Mistress."

"That was foolish, was it not?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"You have a pretty collar, slave girl,” said the Lady Bina.

"Thank you, Mistress,” said Cecily.

To be sure, her collar was no different, essentially, from that worn by thousands of other slaves.

Yet there is no doubt that such collars are extremely attractive on a female.

It is said that no woman knows how beautiful she is until she has seen herself in a collar.

And it is said, as well, that no man knows how desirable a woman is until he has seen her in a collar.

What man, seeing a beautiful woman, does not imagine her in a collar, and want her?

It is, accordingly, not surprising that Gorean masters keep their girls in collars.

To be sure, Merchant Law, in any case, prescribes the collar, the brand, distinctive garmenture, and such.

In no case is the female slave, goods, an animal, to be confused with her incomparably exalted superior, the free woman.

The Lady Bina, the free woman, then looked away from the slave, disdainfully, and looked at Cabot. She then arranged her robes a little differently about her throat, drawing them down, a little. In this way it was made clear, however briefly, however inadvertently, that her throat bore no close-fitting metallic encirclement. Then, as though scarcely noticing what she was doing, she rearranged the robes, in such a way, modestly, that her throat was again concealed. Gorean free women commonly conceal their throat, which, of course, is easily done with the robes of concealment, the veils, and such. If a woman's throat is bared, how does she know that a fellow, say, that one, sitting across from her, in a public cart, or such, is not idly fancying what it might look like in a collar. Indeed, it is natural for a Gorean male, seeing the bared throat of a woman, to think “collar.” The throats of slaves, of course, are commonly bared, save, of course, for the collar. As they are slaves, they are expected to display the collar, obviously, and publicly, such a lovely badge of servitude.

Indeed, as earlier noted, this display, as certain others, is prescribed by Merchant Law, which is a general, intermunicipal body of law regularly promulgated by the Merchant caste at the great fairs, and tending to be shared by disunited, often hostile, Gorean communities. Even were it not for such law, of course, practical considerations would dictate some obvious ways of marking the distinction between the female slave and the free woman. One might think in terms of a slave bracelet or a slave anklet, or such, but the collar is almost universally preferred, possibly because of the prominence of its mounting, its unmistakable visibility, its way of clarifying the nature of its wearer, as a collared animal, and its beauty.

"Lord Grendel,” said the Lady Bina, acknowledging his presence.

"Lady Bina,” he said.

He extended his hand, to touch her, but she recoiled, moving back.

"Do not touch me!” she said.

"Forgive me, Lady,” he said.

She drew her robes more closely about her.

"Lord Arcesilaus,” she said. “It is my understanding that you have had prepared a state breakfast."

"Yes,” he said.

"Shall we then to the tables?” she asked.

"There is no place prepared for you,” said Lord Arcesilaus. He, naturally enough, still muchly thought of her as a pet, and so no place would have been prepared for her, no more than for the slaves.

"She shall have my place,” said Lord Grendel. “I will stand behind her chair."

There were cries of anger and dismay, both from Kurii and men on the dais.