John Norman - The King

“There are many women in the empire,” said Otto, “who need masters.”

“And elsewhere, milord,” said a woman, softly.

“Do not become aroused by the example of a despicable slave,” said a man, angrily.

“No, no, of course not!” said the woman.

“They are different,” said the man. “You are not such as they!”

“No, of course not!” exclaimed the woman.

“You are different!” he said.

“Yes, yes!” she said.

“You are proud, noble, and free!” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes!”

The giant looked at the woman. He sized her up, as men who are practiced with women do. He did not think she would look badly, in chains. She would lick and kiss eagerly, and within the hour, with scarcely a touch of the whip, he thought.

“I think some women can be found,” said the giant. He, at that time, of course, believed that the women embarked from Inez IV were in Venitzia. To be sure, that was days away.

“The king,” said Hartnar, “will need a queen.” He thrust a young woman forward. “My daughter, Gertrude,” he said, “is a comely lass.”

The giant pushed up the girl’s chin and looked into her eyes, which she suddenly, frightened, turned away. Never had she been so looked upon. Surely she was not in a slaver’s house, for sale! Surely she was not upon a slave block!

“I have this niece,” said Gelerich. “She is of the lineage of Pertinax, of the Orti.”

Another woman was pushed forward.

“Not of the Orti!” said Astarax. “Take a woman of the Eni, Una, of the house of Fendash, or Tuse, or Gretchen, of the house of Hertzaufen. Una, Tuse, Gretchen, come forward!”

“The daughters of Gundar, Esa and Estrid, are beauties,” said a man, of the clan Oni.

“Where has he hidden them?” laughed a man.

“He does not want the Heruls to learn of them and take them for slaves,” said a man.

“Perhaps they should be slaves,” said a man.

The giant supposed that many women should be slaves, and of the Otungs, too, for their women, too, were women. Many, he supposed, might be better off, taken to far, rich, exotic worlds, in chains, there to serve strong masters.

But the Otungs, too, he thought, must have women.

“There are many comely women,” said Ulrich, “and from the Elbi, too!”

Women crowded about. Some had been thrust forward, others guided forward, or urged forward, but others had come forward of their own will, some hurrying forward.

It is not unlike the wares in a slaver’s house, thought the giant, on those rare occasions when a strong man, one deemed a desirable master, a possible buyer, is given the liberty of the premises. To be sure, the goods were not in brief silks, or stripped, and, either silked or stripped, in collars, kneeling.

The thought of Filene crossed the giant’s mind. He remembered her, from the night he had tied her at the foot of his bed. He had heard, at times during the night, when she had thought him asleep, her restlessness, her tiny, half-restrained inadvertent whimpers, and moans.

There had seemed something different about her, though he had not been sure what it was. He supposed that it was only that she had not yet learned her slavery.

That could be remedied, easily.

And she was on Tangara, presumably in Venitzia.

The giant looked upon the free women.

One smiled. Another turned, that he might conjecture her figure.

They are free, they are dangerous, he thought. They have all the power of their freedom, of custom, of rude law protecting them, rendering them invulnerable, permitting them to strive in a thousand sly ways against men, capable of reducing and diminishing men, of denying them, of using their bodies to buy what they wanted, of withholding them for gain, of offering favors for bribes, and all with impunity.

How different the slave, who is owned, and must please!

Women are the enemy, thought the giant. Why should not men then, who are stronger, simply subdue them, and then let them find themselves the spoils of war, owned and mastered. It is pleasant to tame women, to make them obedient, dutiful, passionate slaves, and to drive them to sexual ecstasies a thousand times beyond those attainable by the free woman, to have them at the foot of your bed, on the floor, perhaps bound hand and foot there, begging for your touch. Yes, thought the giant, women should be slaves; they belong in collars, and shackles. And women, interestingly, thought the giant, dream of masters. They long for the chains in which they know themselves rightfully to belong. At the master’s feet is the place of women, and this, deny it, and fear it and fight it as they will, in their hearts, they know.

The man who does not put them to their knees they despise. They respond, in the fullness of their sexuality, only to the man before whom they must kneel.

How luscious, thought the giant, was Filene. And she is somewhere in Venitzia! I must arrange for the trading mission he thought. I must go, with men, to Venitzia.

It was the next day that the giant learned, to his elation, after a night of terrible and restless torment, that the trade expedition, with vehicles, and goods, and tents and equipment, under the command of Lysis, attempting to follow him, had arrived near the edge of the forest, only hours away.

Heruls, apparently curious to see what would ensue, had brought the expedition that far. They would not venture into the forest.

The next day, toward evening, at the head of some ten picked men, including Vandar, the giant emerged from the forest, and saw, in the distance, the camp compound and its defensive perimeter, illuminated by floodlights.

The men with him had never seen such a camp. It was quite different from the wagons of the Heruls.

In a short time the giant had approached the camp, and, from a distance of several yards outside the fence, made himself known.

Lysis himself, and the young blond officer, having ascertained through sentries that the guest from the night was indeed Otto, came themselves through the fence.

They seized him, and embraced him warmly.

“We had hoped we could make contact with you here,” said Lysis, supply officer of the Narcona . “Why did you leave Venitzia without us?”

“It was important to come alone, to prepare the way,” said Otto.

“Telnarians are not welcome in the forest?” asked Corelius, the young blond officer.

“There are many places Telnarians are not welcome,” said Otto.

“Did your mission go well?” asked Lysis.

“I think we have cause to be pleased,” said Otto.

“Who are those with you?” asked Lysis.

“Otungs,” said Otto. “I would not approach them too closely, as two have bows.”

“How many are there?” asked Lysis.

“Ten,” said Otto.

“That does not seem too many,” said Corelius.

“They are welcome,” said Lysis.

“Telnarians and Otungs are enemies,” said Otto. “I think it is better that we do not bring soldiers and Otungs together, until we have prepared both.”

“He is right,” said Corelius. “A gesture, a shove, a heated word, a drawn knife or pistol, and the work of Ottonius could go for naught.”

“The mercenary company I have been charged to form,” said Otto, “as it is currently conceived, will be much its own unit, functioning substantially independently, muchly under its own command. Ideally, it will have as little close interaction with regular Telnarian forces as possible, in particular, with those of the fixed sort.”

Here the giant was referring to the border, or garrison troops, as distinguished from the mobile forces.

“Fraternization would be dangerous?” said Lysis.

“Better,” said Otto, “to house arn bears and vi-cats in the same cage.”