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"Mistress?" I said.
"Ah," she said, "is that not better."
"Yes, Mistress," I said, tensely. The lotion was cool on my striped back.
"Mistress?" I asked, frightened.
"You should not have gone on the stones," she said. "You might have injured your feet."
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Your feet are to be soft and pretty," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"You are a pleasure-garden girl, you know," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
She continued to apply the lotion.
"After this," she said, "if you want to go into the garden during the rest period, you should ask me, first."
"Of course, Mistress," I said. "Forgive me, Mistress."
"And if, in the future, you should see someone in the garden, someone you suspect may have no right to be there, you should hurry in and inform me."
"Yes, Mistress," I said. "I am sorry, Mistress, that I pleased him."
"You are only a little barbarian," she said, gently. "You could not please such a man."
"Yes, Mistress," I said. I was not truly sorry, of course, that I had pleased the visitor. I had been hungry to do so. Too, I was sure that I could please him at least as well as she. Indeed, some men like barbarians. They put us through our paces quite well. And I had little doubt that I could tell when a man was pleased and when he was not. One does not wear a collar long before one becomes quite adept at such determinations. Indeed, if they are not pleased, we are likely to soon find out about it, at the receiving end of the leather, of a switch, or strap, or whip.
"That is better, isn't it?" she asked, leaning back, putting the lotion to one side, wiping her hands on a towel.
"Yes, Mistress," I said, gratefully.
"I will return in a moment," she said, "with your supper."
When she returned I sat up, and ate. She had brought some choice viands, perhaps begged from the meals of men. Too, she had a small, shallow bowl of wine.
"Thank you, Mistress," I said, finis.h.i.+ng this repast. "I am terribly sorry I did wrong earlier. I did not wish to annoy you, or displease you. You are very kind."
"Now," she said, "let us remove this heavy, ugly shackle from your ankle."
She opened the shackle and put it, on its chain, the chain running to the ring, to one side.
She held the keys to such things.
"Now." she said, "you may come and go as you please, within the quarters, of course."
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
No other girls were now with us in the rest area, not even Tima and Tana, who were her a.s.sistants.
"You are very kind," I said.
"It is nothing," she said, kissing me lightly on the cheek. She then gathered up the dish and bowl and left.
I lay back down on the mat.
I did not understand this change in Aynur's behavior. I was sure she had been outraged at finding me in the arms of the tall, longhaired man. I had little doubt that he came sometimes to see Aynur. Earlier, in the garden, she had seemed almost insanely jealous of his attentions to me. Indeed, she had even been humiliated before me, and her a.s.sistants, by being put to her knees by him, and by having to fetch his sandals, sandals which he then, pointedly, had me tie.
I would not have thought that such insults would have been easily pa.s.sed over by a woman such as Aynur. Too, she would have her needs, doubtless as keen and stressful as those of others. In this house, in the garden, there was much pain. Sometimes, to be sure, we entertained, in the house or garden, some singing and playing, others, such as I, fetching food and drink, attending on the guests, then all of us, later, as we might be selected, or allotted, or a.s.signed, serving, as slaves. But it was not enough for us. Could that not be told simply by looking at our necks, and seeing that there were collars there? Did this detail not serve as token, if none other, that slave fires had been lit in our bellies? Had men not seen to it? After a time the other girls began to enter the room, one or two at a time. I took little notice of them. Under Aynur's supervision they surrendered their silks and jewelry. Soon, when the house master made his check, with his lamp, we would all be on our mats, even Aynur. I heard a guard close the gate to the garden. I heard the bolts thrown in the locks. In this house we were not to speak after the nineteenth Ahn. I recalled the tall, longhaired man. I wondered what he had been doing in the garden. He was apparently known in the house, but I had not seen him before. How I had leaped to his touch, how I had obeyed him!
How I must have amused him, in his arms, I so unable to conceal myself from him. How well he knew me now, as the slave I was! He had frightened me, with his questions. He had wanted to know the location of the pens in which I had been trained, even the accents of my original captors. He had wanted to know if I could read a certain word, which I could not, and if I could recognize a certain sign.
The sign, of course, had been the sign, or name, of the city, Ar. I knew that. It is on many seals, and such. And most frighteningly he had wanted to know if I had ever heard of a slave named "Janice," if I had ever been in Treve. I think I was ent.i.tled to be afraid. It was not as though I could run, or hide. I had never even been allowed out of this house, save in the garden. Doors were bolted, gates were locked.
There were walls, and guards. And even more devastatingly I was a slave. There was no escape for me.
I did not control my own destiny. It was in the hands of others, the masters. I was afraid. I was miserable.
"Extinguish the lamps, my lovely sisters in bondage," said Aynur, pleasantly.
One by one the lamps were extinguished.
Aynur seemed in a good mood this evening. I am sure that that anomaly was muchly appreciated by all of us. On the whole, Aynur was quite strict with us.
We must, for example, for the inspection of the house master, kneel with our knees in a line, and spread to the appropriate angle. Our backs must be straight. Our chins must be elevated to the proper height, our hands must be placed exactly so on our thighs, and so on.
She was quick with her switch. She kept us under excellent discipline.
I lay there on the mat for a little while in the darkness.
The room was very quiet.
I was exhausted, and my back still hurt, despite the soothing lotion.
I decided that there was no reason to be afraid, really.
After all, the man had gone away, and I was safe in the house.
Too, more importantly, I had denied knowing a "Janice." I had denied ever having been in Treve.
That should finish the matter.
I fell asleep. I am sure it was well before the mat check.
FORTY TWO
"Shhh," I heard. "Do not make any noise."
I awakened on the mat. It must have been well after the mat check.
It was Aynur' s voice.
It was dark in the room. I could hear the breathing of several of the other flowers, asleep nearby on their mats.
"Mistress?" I asked.
I was still on my belly, from the switching I had received the preceding evening.
"Place your wrists, crossed, behind your back," said Aynur. I complied and, in an instant, with a double loop, they were corded together.
"Do not make any noise," said Aynur.
"What is it?" I whispered, frightened.
"You are to be taken to see the master," she whispered. I was startled to hear this. Was this how he had his girls brought to him, in the darkness of the night, secretly? Or, did this have to do with other business, clandestine business perhaps, nocturnal interrogations? Perhaps he was curious to know what had transpired in the garden. Indeed, perhaps the stranger was with him and I must now be brought before them both.
"Should I not be silked?" I asked.
"You will go as you are," she said.
Aynur then reached before me and thrust a wad of cloth into my mouth.
This she bound in place with a folded scarf, knotted behind the back of my neck. The original wad of cloth, now held in, as I struggled with it, moving it about in my mouth, expanded to fill my oral cavity. "Be very quiet," said Aynur. "Do not make any noise." It was an effective gag. Even had I dared, I could have done little to make myself heard. "Get up," said Aynur. I rose to my feet. I felt her hand on my back.
"Move," she said, "barbarian." I was pressed toward the door. The door was now unlocked. I preceded her, directed by her, down the main corridor, and then into a side pa.s.sage, past several doors, and then into a small room. It was dark.
Aynur closed the door behind us. Surely this was not the compartments of the master!
"Sit," said Aynur.
I sat down.
"Cross your ankles," said Aynur.
I did so and Aynur, in the darkness, bound them together.
A moment or so later a fire-maker was struck in the room and a man, masked, lit a tiny lamp on a table.
There was another man in the room, as well, also masked.
Near the table, on the floor, there was a slave box.
"This is the slave," said Aynur. "I deliver her to you, Masters."
I struggled suddenly with the bonds, but could not free myself.
The men regarded me, bemused.
I tried to speak but was prevented by the gag. I could utter only small sounds, pleading sounds, questioning sounds, sounds of misery and fear.
"You have done well, slave," said one of the men.
"Thank you, Master," she said.
Then Aynur turned to me. "Do not fear, barbarian s.l.u.t," said she, "but after today, sooner or later, I would have found a way to get you out of the garden! Do not think to lie again, filthy little slave, in the arms of my Camillus!"
I supposed that guards might be sometimes suborned, with the promise of the gift of dangerous, delicious, clandestine favors, and such, to cooperate in such matters. Intrigues in the gardens, in the slave quarters, can be quite fearful.
"See her struggle," said Aynur to the guards. Then she again addressed herself to me. "One of the guards, one who leaves the city tonight," she said, "will be thought to have stolen you from the slave quarters, doubtless for your golden collar."
I looked at her, angrily, over the gag. Did she truly think I might be stolen only for my golden collar? "I myself will return to the quarters, locking the door behind me. How surprised, how horrified, will we all be in the morning!"
Again I struggled, but Aynur had tied me quite well.
"But I have been saved the trouble of arranging these matters," she said, "for others, it seems, are interested in you. Tonight's events have been planned, it seems, for some time, but only this evening was I contacted by a guard, he who leaves the city this night. You can imagine with what joy I attended his proposals."
I looked to the men. It was hard to read their eyes. I did not think they were guards in the house.
One thing unnerved me, terribly. Though I was stripped and bound before these men, I did not seem to find myself regarded with the interest, curiosity, or relish I might have antic.i.p.ated, that which one might expect to be accorded to such as I, a naked, bound slave. I hoped, of course, that this might prove to be an ordinary, if unusually daring, case of slave theft. Stealing slaves, as you might expect, is a not unusual practice on this world.
Among many young men the theft of slaves, and even of free women, from enemy cities is regarded as a sport. Among slavers it is regarded as a business. The prevention of slave theft is one reason for the presence of slave rings in public places, for the fastening of slaves to the foot of couches at night, and so on. I did not much fear slave theft as it would extract me from the boredom, if security, of the garden.
Indeed, I welcomed the prospect for I hoped that it would, sooner or later, bring me within the grasp of a master who would know how to handle me, and would do so, with audacity and command. But I did not think these men were simply interested in picking up a pleasure-garden girl, even one who might be of unusual interest, either for their own house or to put on the block in some foreign city, hopefully turning a tidy profit on her. I might be beautiful or not, but I did not think these men were interested in that sort of thing. They did not seem to regard me with an interest which suggested they wanted me for themselves, nor, as far as I could tell, did I find in their gaze any speculations as to how I might appear to possible buyers, or to an unknown princ.i.p.al.
"Put her in the box," said Aynur.
I was lifted up and put in the box. For a moment I was sitting up, wildly, within it, but then, by one hand in my hair, pulling back and down, and the other, lifting my ankles, and forcing them back, I was brought down in the box, on my back. I tried to rear up, but I was pressed down, rudely, uncompromisingly, just under my throat, by the hand which had governed my ankles. My bound ankles were then pulled forward and down, in such a way that the soles of my feet were on the floor of the box. I whimpered, frenziedly, pleadingly. I lay in the box then, on my back, my knees drawn up. It was small. I was cramped within it.
The lid was shut. I heard bolts snap. It was a st.u.r.dy metal box, and is, in itself, its own security device.
Its occupant need not be bound. It had four sets of perforations, for the admission of air. One was to my left and one to my right, where my head was. The others were to the left and right, near my ankles, as I lay. In this fas.h.i.+on, whether a girl's head is to the left or right, as she is inserted into the box, there will be breathing holes in the vicinity of her face. I could see out through the perforations, by turning my head one way or the other.
These perforations, in each set, were so arranged as to form a cursive kef, which is the first letter in the word 'kajira'. The cursive kef, in variations, is also used as the common slave mark for kajirae. On my left thigh, just below the hip, I bore the same mark, put there by a slave iron.
"Bury it deep!" laughed Aynur. "Cast it into the foulest carnarium!"
I struggled inside the box. I whimpered madly. It would be only too easy, in the dead of the night, to bury the box somewhere outside the walls, in some remote place, or to cast it into one of the carnariums, the refuse pits outside the wall, into which garbage, and excrement, and all filth, as from the emptying of the giant vats of the insulae, might be thrown. But could they not, if this were their intent, strangle me first, utilizing some convenient string or cord, or smother me with a blanket or cus.h.i.+on, one easily found, perhaps one almost at hand, or even enter a blade swiftly, mercifully, into my heart? Surely that would not be difficult. They were armed!