Quarry of Gor, page 36
I was afraid to cry out, for fear Pa-Kur and his men might hear me.
Surely they could not be far away.
The sand about me grew slick and wet. Water washed against me. I scooped up a bit of water and tasted it. It was sea water. The tide was rising in the Tamber. I had no idea how high the tide might rise, inches, a foot, a yard, several feet? Tides vary considerably, even to the number of tides a day. They are influenced by a number of things, such as the primary of the planet, the size of the planet, the period and nature of its rotation, the size and number of the planet’s moons, winds and storms, and the configuration of coastlines and tidal basins. My body felt cold in the dark as the water rose slightly. The Yellow Moon then broke free of clouds and I could see its light reflected all about me in the rising, surrounding water. I tried to go to my stomach, to force myself prone, and then to my back, to force myself supine, distributing my weight, but I could not do so. I could not draw my body upward, my legs free. I could not free myself!
I could feel the encircling water rising.
I suddenly became aware that I was screaming, hysterically, heedless of who might be listening.
I do not know how long I cried out.
It may have been a quarter of an Ahn.
The water was rising, slowly, inexorably.
I stopped screaming.
I caught my breath.
My throat was sore.
I was cold.
I looked about, wildly, at the moonlit water, at the tufted wand, less of which could now be seen, at the rence to the side.
I must try to cry out, again.
“Please, help!” I whispered, hoarse, scarcely capable of hearing my own voice. “Please, help!”
At that moment I felt something strike against my back. My first thought was that it was the investigatory prodding of a marsh shark or a Tamber shark. I screamed in fear. I took it to be the first of two or three such proddings, prior to the turning and the strike. But the water was too shallow for that. Then I cried out again, certain that it was the snout of a long tharlarion, moving easily through the shallow water. But it could not be so, for such a beast seizes its prey, precipitously, and then drags it under water to drown it, after which it feasts. But what had struck my back had seemed inert, wooden, thick, wide, afloat, and curved. It was debris of some sort. Then it seemed about to turn about and drift away. I wrenched my body about and caught at it. It slipped from my hand, and I struck at it, dragging my hand across it, moving it back toward me. Then I had one hand on what seemed part of a rail. I suspected it had come from the side of the canal boat, from the right side of the canal boat, in the darkness, and somehow, in the mix of waters, that of the exiting freshwater flow of the Vosk, draining through the marsh, and the incoming, rising tide of the Tamber, had turned and moved behind me. I was desperate that it not drift away, behind me, in the tide. I fear I was not thinking clearly. I pulled it around, before me, one hand tight on the rail, the other hand, as it could, grasping the edge. It was large, and wooden. It was some three by four feet, and curved, consisting of narrow planks fastened to a curved rib. I pressed it down, fiercely, against the sand about my waist. Given its breadth it moved only an inch or so into the sand. By its means I obtained purchase, something anchored in terms of which I could press down and lift myself, inch by inch, upward, free of the grip of the sand. In a few Ehn my body was much across the object, and then the object was caught in the incoming tide, and it floated, supporting me. I wept with gladness, freed, thrashing to the side now, back amongst the rence. I do not know then if I fainted, or, overcome by my ordeal, exhausted, fell asleep. I awakened in the early morning, half lying across my makeshift vessel, to the sound of marsh birds. In the attack of the Ul, the night before, the canal boat of the Assassin, Pa-Kur, had been muchly damaged. Portions, from the impact and the blows of the struggle, the beating wings, had been splintered free. It was one of these remnants in virtue of which I had managed to free myself. From where I was I could still see the tufted wand, the yellow efflorescence at its summit. The tuft was limp and sodden. The water then, I knew, had risen some four or five feet, to a level at which, had I been unable to free myself, I would have surely drowned. Some of the canal boat’s debris, given currents and such, had apparently taken much the same course that I had followed in my flight.
I could see the walls of Port Kar in the distance.
I supposed that Bruno of Torcadino had perished in the marsh.
I did not know the fate of the others.
I suspected that, together, and armed, they would survive.
I thought of Addison Steele.
I found myself hoping, desperately, fervently, for no reason I understood, that he had survived. Why should this be? He was a rogue and a villain, dishonest, corrupt, and untrustworthy, even treasonous. How I hated him! He had dared to treat me as a slave, I, once the well-stationed, proud Margaret Henderson, of Earth, as the slave I now am! He had treated me with disdain and contempt, albeit a disdain and contempt which I knew, as a slave, I richly deserved. He had treated me as a meaningless beast, a luscious, purchasable object worthy only of serving a master’s pleasure. How dared he treat me so? How dared he treat me as a beast! And then I recalled that I, as a slave, was a beast, only a negligible beast. I hated him! I wanted to wear his bracelets, his collar, his chains, and feel his whip, if he should choose to whip me!
Again I looked to the walls of Port Kar.
I had little hope of surviving in the delta, not for long, nor did I wish to do so. It was my hope to return to the Golden Chain.
I must avoid Rencers.
Unattended slaves are taken, reasonably enough, as fugitives.
Most commonly, if one manages to survive for a time in the delta, there are two alternatives, other than being cast to tharlarion or staked out for an Ul.
One is kept or returned.
If one is kept one’s forehead is branded and one is kept as a rence slave. If one is not kept, one is nearly concealed with ropes, thrown into a rence craft, and taken back to Port Kar for punishment. In such a case, to whom would I be delivered? Rencers expect, as I once noted, to receive a tarsk-bit for returning a less beautiful slave, and two tarsk-bits for returning a more beautiful slave. I did not know if they would ask one or two tarsk-bits for me. It is men who decide such things. If masters are unwilling to pay the tarsk-bit or tarsk-bits, the girl is taken back to the delta to be forehead-branded and made a rence slave. Alternatively, if free rence women have their way, she may be thrown to tharlarion or put out for an Ul. That fate is also one which may be visited upon a slave who is found displeasing to her master.
I then began, while keeping a careful watch, to make my way back toward the city.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I am Again at the Golden Chain
Brushed and combed, washed and rested, watered and fed, freshly tunicked, I knelt before Ho-Tosk, my master, proprietor of the Golden Chain, in his office.
How else should a slave girl be before a free man?
“It is an interesting story, you tell,” said he.
How different I was now from the filthy, disheveled, exhausted, naked, hungry slave, braceleted and leashed, who had been yesterday delivered by guardsmen to the portal of the Golden Chain!
“Much occurred,” I said. “I have related matters as well as I can.”
“It was your understanding,” he said, “that you left the Golden Chain with my permission?”
“So the message said, explicitly,” I said.
“You should have checked with me,” he said.
“You were unavailable,” I said.
“The timing of the message doubtless took that into consideration,” he said.
“I suspect so,” I said. I saw no point in informing him that the message had been signed with the initials ‘A’ and ‘S’ which I took to stand for “Addison Steele.”
“You were abducted, questioned, and abandoned?” he said.
“I revealed nothing,” I said. I was confident that the secret of Adraste, that she was the former Lady Julia Leta, had been well kept. I was sure that Ho-Tosk was party to this small conspiracy.
“You spoke volubly and willingly,” said Ho-Tosk. “You revealed everything that you thought to keep secret.”
“No, Master!” I protested.
“You do not remember it,” said Ho-Tosk, “but you spoke amply and informatively, to the best of your ability.”
“Surely not, Master!” I said, dismayed.
“You are not to be blamed,” he said. “The fumes, the chemicals, the suggestions and instructions. How could they be resisted? You could not help yourself.”
“Then I revealed all, unknowingly?” I asked, miserable.
“You revealed what you took to be the truth,” he said, “as it was intended you would, should the circumstances arise.”
“I do not understand,” I said.
“Nor need you,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“What you heard in the delta is important, and of great interest,” said Ho-Tosk.
“I have recounted it to the best of my memory,” I said.
I had had little difficulty in returning to the Golden Chain from the delta. I had allowed the guards at the gate to suppose that I was a returning fugitive from the Golden Chain, convinced of the horror and hopelessness of surviving in the delta, begging to be returned to her appropriate chains.
“You will be well lashed, if not hamstrung,” had said one of the guards.
“Yes, Master,” I had said.
“Many, convinced of the terrors of the delta, return,” had said another guard.
“Those who are not eaten, drowned, or caught by Rencers,” said another.
“You are pretty,” said another. “Perhaps they will not cut off one of your feet.”
My hands were then fastened behind my back in slave bracelets, and the leash of Bruno of Torcadino, which had been wrapped about my collar, was unwound, and I was led to the Golden Chain. I had muchly feared they would read the collar, the leash unwound, which identified me as the property not of the Golden Chain, but of Bruno of Torcadino, but they did not do so.
“After you were abandoned, unable to speak,” he said, “you were picked up by guardsmen, delivered to Samos, First Slaver of Port Kar, and, subsequently, sold in one of his outlets.”
“Yes, Master,” I said, “to the one-legged man, he who calls himself Bruno of Torcadino.”
“We know of him,” said Ho-Tosk.
I no longer wore the collar of Bruno of Torcadino. Shortly after I had arrived at the Golden Chain, the Golden Chain’s collar had been placed on my neck and Bruno of Torcadino’s collar had been removed. In that way there had been not even a single moment in which I was not in a collar. This is common with slaves.
“Bruno of Torcadino bought me,” I said. “He will think he has a claim on me.”
“My claim,” said Ho-Tosk, “has priority. The matter is clear in the law.”
“I could not speak,” I said. “I could not explain matters.”
“I understand,” said Ho-Tosk.
“He paid fifteen copper tarsks for me.”
“You are worth more,” said Ho-Tosk.
“I could not speak,” I said.
“Even so,” he said.
“A girl is pleased,” I said.
“Do you understand why you could not speak?” he asked.
“No, Master,” I said.
“I do not understand the mechanism fully,” said Ho-Tosk, “but it is done through the mind. One is told one cannot speak, one is convinced that one cannot speak, and then one cannot speak. Then, normally, it is included in the matter that only he who has brought about this condition can dispel the condition. This is useful, as one might wish the subject to be able to speak again, later, perhaps to answer questions, or such.”
“But the chemicals, the fumes,” I said.
“Doubtless they have their role,” said Ho-Tosk, “perhaps to weaken resistance, to induce a greater susceptibility to suggestion, or such.”
“I was at great risk in the delta,” I said, “helplessly caught in quicksand.”
“You managed to seize upon a bit of flotsam, some debris,” he said, “enabling you to free yourself.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“It seems you were very fortunate,” he said.
“Very much so, Master,” I said.
“Such a happenstance seems very unlikely,” said Ho-Tosk.
“I was very fortunate,” I said.
“It seems so,” said he.
I was uneasy, distraught before my master. As far as I knew I had revealed nothing in the apartment of Dorna of Tharna, but Ho-Tosk apparently believed I had fully satisfied my interrogators, but yet, amazingly, he did not seem concerned with the matter. I gathered then that there was little importance now attaching to the former Lady Julia Leta, of Ar, or, more likely, given Adraste’s recent withdrawal from the tavern, that I had been given false information, and that Adraste’s former identity was not that of a Lady Julia Leta, of Ar. What then might be her former identity? Given what I had heard in the delta, I had gathered that the “quarry,” as they spoke of it, must be considerably valuable. If I was not aware that the fabulous Talena, of Ar, so despised and hated, so grievously sought, the treacherous Ubara, the scheming traitress to her city, the betrayer of her Home Stone, the colleague of mortal enemies to Ar, was now safe in Cos, the guest of Lurius of Jad, I might have dared to entertain the suspicion that the “quarry,” however unlikely such a prospect, might be she.
“Where is Bruno of Torcadino?” asked Ho-Tosk.
“I do not know,” I said. “I suppose him to have perished in the marshes.”
“And the Assassin, Pa-Kur, and his men?”
“I do not know,” I said. “As there were several of them, and armed, I suspect that some, at least, managed to return to the city.”
“They did so,” said Ho-Tosk.
I was pleased to hear this, as Addison Steele had been a member of their party.
“And have now disappeared within the city,” he said.
“Am I soon to be returned to the floor?” I asked.
“It is not clear that Bruno of Torcadino perished in the marshes,” said Ho-Tosk. “And it is clear that Pa-Kur, and others, did not.”
“Master?” I said.
“I think you know more than it is wise for a kajira to know,” he said.
“I have already spoken,” I said.
“And to how many others might you speak?” he asked.
“Surely to none, Master!” I said.
“It would be easy enough to cut your throat,” he said.
“Master!” I protested.
“But it is not our way,” he said.
“A girl is pleased,” I said.
“You are no different from thousands of others,” he said, “dark-haired, shapely meat, block goods, begging, moaning beasts, juicing at a snap of the fingers, melting and ready as soon as a master deigns to look upon you. You have learned your collar well and your meaning in chains.”
I knew it so. How else could one be on Gor, in the hands of Gorean men?
I was not discontent.
I knew I was now where I belonged, on my knees, in a collar.
“We could change your name and lose you in any one of a hundred markets, markets as far south as Schendi, as far north as Torvaldsland.”
“Yes, Master,” I whispered.
I could belong to anyone!
How aware I was then of the vulnerability of a slave girl, a property, to be done with as others pleased.
“But you may yet be of service,” he said. He then reached into a drawer at hand and drew forth from it a folded object, one of belted leather. He cast it against my body. “Hood yourself,” he said, “and crawl to me. I will buckle the straps.”
“Yes, Master,” I whispered, drawing the object down, over my head.
In moments I was before him, on all fours, my head down, the device snugly buckled.
“May I ask where I am to be taken, and what is to be done with me?” I asked.
“No,” he said.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I Have Been Removed from the Golden Chain;
My Tunic is Changed;
Florian;
I am Informed as to my Whereabouts
“Stand still,” said the male voice, “I will remove the hood.”
I felt hands at the buckle, at the back of my neck.
My hands were behind me, fastened together in slave bracelets. I pulled weakly at the linkage. I had no hope of freeing myself. Such bracelets are light, simple, comfortable, and wholly effective. One knows well how well one is held. One does not slip such bracelets. One listens for the metallic sounds, one reminds oneself by so simple a test of how closely together one’s wrists are fastened. One knows oneself helpless, and one is aroused.
“One wonders if your features and hair are as attractive as your lineaments,” he said.
Doubtless he would soon know, as I would be tacitly assessed.
I had been taken, hooded, my limbs free, from the Golden Chain this morning. I was walked, a tavern’s man’s hand on my arm, to one of the nearby canals, where I was handed down into the arms of a fellow. “You may hold to the rail,” I was told, and my hands were placed on the rail. A moment later the propelling oar moved, and the canal boat was underway. Given the noises of various males, presumably on occasional walkways, or possibly even in other canal boats, passing, I soon realized why I had been permitted to stand. I was still in a tunic of the Golden Chain and Ho-Tosk was not averse to displaying me, even hooded, as one of his girls. Similarly, as noted before, he sometimes let us roam about the city, suitably tunicked, as living advertisements, so to speak. “She is an Ahn girl,” I had heard cry, and more than once. But I was not an Ahn girl, and the Golden Chain did not supply Ahn girls. An Ahn girl, usually a paga slave, is delivered to a given address for an Ahn or so, or even an evening, a morning, or a night, and is then, later, picked up and returned to her master, a tavern or such. Ho-Tosk, and the proprietors of the better taverns, seldom furnished Ahn girls. The major reason for this, as I understand it, is the “monitoring problem.” A slave out of reach may be a slave at risk, or even a slave stolen. Given my hooding and the twistings and turnings of the canals I soon had no idea of my location. Then, after something like an Ahn, I no longer felt the sun and breezes on my arms and I had the sense that we might be making our way in narrower, less traveled canals, darker canals, between or behind close buildings. The air was less fresh. It was cooler, damper. I heard no sign of activity on walkways. “Down, kajira, belly,” I heard. I lowered myself to my belly and felt my hands drawn behind me. A moment later I felt curved metal quickly, expertly, encircle my wrists and heard two snaps. I then wore slave bracelets. A sheet or cloth was then thrown over me. No longer could I be seen. Few, if any, would see where I was taken. Shortly thereafter I sensed we were once more abroad, somewhere in the maze of Port Kar’s larger and more traveled canals. After several Ehn we paused, apparently at some gate, which, with a rattle of bolts and chains, was opened. We passed through this gate, which was then closed behind us. I guessed we were then within the water walls of some holding, in some small, private harbor, presumably near a mooring and landing.
