John Norman: The King

“I see,” she said.

“Too, of course, he must arrange for your mutual flight, after the deed, and see that you are returned safe and sound to the inner precincts of the empire, to receive your rewards, your renewed wealth and status, your new estates and palaces, such tokens of an empire’s gratitude.”

“My thanks, milord!” she said.

“Do you think you can carry off this matter?” he asked.

“Surely, milord,” she smiled.

“Do you think that you will be able to stand it,” he asked, “if your small, fair limbs should be encircled with steel, if you should feel chains upon your beauty, if your neck might even feel upon it a collar of steel?”

“I would know such things to be an empty farce,” she said.

“I think that you would find that they would hold you as well as any other girl upon the ship.”

“‘Girl’?” she asked.

“Such an expression,” he said, “is commonly used of the female slave, perhaps because she is lowly, and nothing, perhaps because it sweeps away cant and hypocrisy, and speaks of unmitigated, direct, uncompromising sexuality.”

“I could wear chains,” she said, “contenting myself with the knowledge that a hundred times their weight in gold awaits me later!”

“You may rise,” he said.

She leapt to her feet and ran to her clothing, which lay strewn on the marble.

She began to gather it up, and sort it out. She turned to him.

“May I bring my intimate maid?” she asked.

“No,” smiled Iaachus, Arbiter of Protocol.

“How then shall I manage?” she asked, puzzled.

“The slave girl, which will be your guise,” he said, “seldom needs assistance in dressing, for her garb is commonly simple, if, indeed, any is permitted to her at all.”

“What of my hair?” she asked.

“That, too, will be quite simple,” he said. “It need only be well washed, brushed and combed-vital, abundant, full-bodied, glossy and long.”

“I would take my maid with me,” she said.

“No,” he said.

“I would have more kana ,” she said, irritably.

“No,” he said.

“Do not dress here,” he said. “I have work to do.”

She stood there, clutching her garments about her.

“I would forget, for the time,” he said, “the drinking of kana from luxite vessels. I would rather accustom myself to the prospect of drinking water from pans, on all fours.”

“Doubtless it is time that I was on my way,” she said.

“Doubtless,” he concurred.

She threw him a look of fury.

She had been conducted to the palace secretly, and would be returned to her chambers in the city in the same way. But it would be best if as few as possible noted the comings and goings of a mysterious party, arriving and parting in darkness, hurrying in and out of a closed carriage, a party which consisted, it might seem, of some high lady and her escort.

“You may leave,” he said.

“I am not to be addressed in that fashion,” she said. “I am a lady of the senatorial class.”

“You are now an agent, and will take orders,” he said.

She stiffened, angrily, holding her garments about her.

“Later,” he said, “you may revel in the glories of your wealth and status. In the meantime, you are no more than a vain, declined aristocrat, of dubious character, and repudiated by your family.”

“Beast!” she said.

He regarded her, and she stepped back, uncertainly.

“Perhaps I should throw you to the marble,” he said.

She gasped.

“Perhaps you can imagine what it would feel like, on your body, as you were seized, held helplessly and ravished.”

She retreated.

She clutched the clothing before her, about her, closely, defensively.

“I jest, of course,” he said.

“Of course, milord!” she laughed.

“Milord,” she said.

“Yes?” he said.

“Your informants?” she said. “You spoke of bath attendants, and such.”

“Yes?” he said.

“Was my intimate maid among them?” she asked, angrily.

“Perhaps,” he said.

“I will beat her,” she said, “as she has never been beaten before!”

“Your carriage will be waiting,” said Iaachus, the Arbiter of Protocol. “You will be contacted again, tomorrow, and the necessary arrangements will be made.

“Dress outside,” he said.

“Yes, milord,” she said, and backed from the room.

Her emotions, in the anteroom, were like charging, leaping seas within her, chaotic tides, irrepressible stirrings, storms of confusion, of delight, of ambition, of fury, of humiliation, of curiosity. She reveled in the improvement of her prospects, the prospect of the redemption of her fortunes, the vistas of status, of wealth and power held out before her, that she could become one of the foremost ladies in the empire, perhaps, nay, undoubtedly, invited even to participate in the court! And so much could be purchased so simply, at so little cost as an awaited opportunity and the merest scratch of a tiny point. She could, once success was hers, so easily wrought, return to the empire, ruin her family, bring destruction in a thousand ways upon her enemies, and upon others, whom she might please, who perhaps had slighted her, or disapproved of her, or might have done so. But, too, she shook with humiliation, with fury. Within, a man had seen her, she, though a woman of the senatorial class, as naked as a slave girl! To be sure, he had doubtless had no choice. He must have had, she reassured herself, to make what determinations he needed, to make certain that she was fully suitable for inclusion within his plans, to ascertain her fittingness for the role in which he was considering casting her. Yes! Yes! And apparently he had found her fitting all right! She was extremely beautiful! She knew that. She would do quite well. She would do superbly! She was extremely vain of her beauty, and relished its power. But, too, she was disturbed by feelings she had had, before him, as when turning before him, when he had told her to do so, as when kneeling before him, when he had told her to do so, and precisely according to his instructions. For an instant, here and there, she had suddenly, overwhelmingly, frighteningly, felt wholly, radically, simply, basically, fundamentally female, felt herself a creature to be seen in terms of its basic, radical psychosexuality, a creature with no alternatives, no options, other than a total helpless, yielded femininity, a creature of basic femaleness, a femaleness imbued with, redolent with, radiant, profound, pervasive passion, and, too, for an instant, she sensed what might be the nature of a total love, obedience and service, sensed the profound sexuality of a creature who is uncompromisingly owned, and must be, under the threat of terrible punishments, but is eager, as well, to be, hot, devoted, and dutiful. She had sensed then, in distracted, terrified, resisted moments, simply, what it might be to be a woman, a true woman, radically, fundamentally, basically.

How she hurled such thoughts from her head! How she hated men! How she hated the dark-garbed, mysterious, powerful Iaachus, Arbiter of Protocol. How she hated slaves! How she hated the world, the empire, everything!

She was of noble family, she was of the highest lineage, she was, even, of the senatorial class!

She thought of her intimate maid!

The chit! How she would beat her!

It was at this moment that, in the outer room, the anteroom, she saw the white-gowned young woman who had been, earlier, in the inner room, who had been dismissed before she, the woman of the senatorial class, and the Arbiter of Protocol had begun to discuss matters of a possibly delicate, sensitive nature.

The girl had been lying curled on a mat, in the white, sleeveless, woolen gown, at the far wall, well out of earshot of the inner room, which, in any event, was sealed with a mighty door, a heavy portal designed to be soundproof.