"Here," I said, snapping my fingers. The naked blond slave ran swiftly to me and knelt before me. "My fingers are greasy," I said. "Yes, Master," she said, and, putting down her head, she began to lick the palms of my hands, as I held them out to her, and then about my hands, and then to run her tongue down between my fingers and the hands, and then, not touching them with her own hands of fingers, carefully and delicately, to kiss and suck my fingers individually. She then extended her head towards me and I dried my hands and fingers on her long blond hair. She looked at me. The collar looked well on her throat. I pulled her across the low table on her stomach, scattering vessels and plates, and then, turning her, threw her to her back on the tiles behind the table. Swiftly then I had her. Those near me took no note of this. I stood then over her. She looked up at me, gasping, fearful, one knee raised, the palms her hands facing down. Her fingernails had scratched at the tiles. I kicked her. "Return to your work," I told her. "Yes, Master," she said, hastening to rise, then hurrying away.
"More food," I said, returning to my place, "and clear this mess!" "Yes, Master," said a naked brunet. "Yes, Master!" said a naked redhead. They hurried to serve, kneeling. They looked well in their collars. The collar accentuates the nudity and beauty of a slave, and, too, of course, it proclaims her bondage. I retrieved a large grape, about the size of a small plum, from the table, before they could clear it away. It lay near an overturned wine goblet, in a wine stain. It had rolled there, across the sparkling cloth, when it had been dislodged from its position in its shallow, golden bowl in the blonde's transit. It was peeled and pitted, doubtless laboriously by female slaves. It was a Ta grape. One often associates them with the terraces of Cos, but they are grown, of course, in many other places, as well. I thrust it in my mouth. then I gave my attention to the performance in progress between the tables, on a small, raised platform.
"Ho, varlets, craven churls, away!" cried lanky Petrucchio, drawing his great wooden sword form the preposterous sheath which dragged behind him. This took some time. "Away, away!" I say, he kept repeating, and at last had managed, bit by bit, yank by yank, to free the sword. he now waved it about, menacingly, seemingly almost as though it might decapitate anyone within a range of several feet. The three women seeming to cower behind him, covered from head to toe in robes of concealment, huddled together, ducking its great swings. Before Petrucchio, as though just having entered into the same area, the object of his attention, were Chino and Lecchio, in the garb of cloth workers, and with packs on their backs. "Back, even in your vast numbers, you warriors and foes," cried Petrucchio, grimly, "lest I slice you like roast tarsk, lest I shred you like tur-pah and peel you like suls!"
Chino and Lecchio, understood as two simple travelers on the road, come unexpectedly on Petrucchio and his companions, looked at one another, wonderingly.
"Avaunt, speedily!" cried Petrucchio, swinging the great sword again, the girls behind him ducking once more.
"But, good sir," called Chino, keeping his distance, "we are but two humble cloth workers!"
"Do not seek to deceive Petrucchio, captain of Turia!" cried Petrucchio. "To him your disguises, as brilliantly contrived as they may be to deceive others, are as flimsy and transparent as a veil of Anango!" The Petrucchio character, it might been noted, is commonly, in the northern hemisphere, portrayed as a captain from Turia, a city securely far away, off in the southern hemisphere. In the southern hemisphere, I have heard, he is usually presented as a captain from Ar. The important thing, apparently, is that he comes from a city which is large and impressive, and which tends to evoke a certain apprehension, or envy, and is far away. It is always easier to believe that folks far away are pretentious cowards. One has seldom met them in battle. Another advantage of choosing a distant city is that there are not likely to be citizens of that city in the audience, who might take exception to the performance, though, to be sure, most Goreans understand what is going on and tend to enjoy the farce immensely, even if the captain is supposed to be one of their own.
My own identity, incidentally, at least if one could believe my credentials, which had brought me into the feasting hall, was supposed to be of Turia. These credentials had been loaned to me by a fellow down whose throat I had stuffed enough Tassa powder to put a kailiauk under for several Ahn. To make sure I had also thrust him, tightly bound and effectively gagged, almost as perfectly as though he might have been a female slave, into a closet. He would presumably be found there tomorrow, or the day after, by a cleaning slave. The reference to a "veil of Anango," of course, was a reference to the veil in a well-known farce, "The Veil of Anango," performed by many companies. Indeed, it was one of the more frequently played items in the repertory of Boots's company. The leading character in it, or the female lead, is played by the Brigella character. That role now, of course, was played by Boots's slave, "Lady Telitsia." It was a reference which would be understood by Gorean audiences. Too, of course, in this context, it was supposed to convey that Petrucchio regarded himself as a very clever fellow, certainly not one to be easily fooled.
"You see our garb," protested Chino. "It is that of the cloth workers."
"Yes," insisted Lecchio.
"Hah!" cried Petrucchio, skeptically, but he rested the point of the great wooden sword on the platform, and, with one hand, beneath that long-nosed halfmask, he characteristically began to twirl one half of the huge, fearsome mustache.
"and here are our packs!" cried Chino, exhibiting the packs.
"Doubtless filled with weapons," surmised Petrucchio, twirling the fearsome mustache.
The girls in the robes of concealment, cowering behind Petrucchio, cried out in fear.
"Quiver not in such abject terror, my dears," said Petrucchio, reassuringly. "Indeed, it is not even necessary to shudder, unless it should please you to do so. Indeed, you may even breathe calmly, if that should be your wish, for as much as though you were safe in your beds within your stone keeps, protected each by the vigilance of a thousand valiant guards, you are safe here, nay, safer, though even on a public road, for here you stand within the walls of my steel."
"My hero!" cried the first girl.
"My hero!" cried the second.
"My hero!" cried the third.
Chino and Lecchio looked at one another.
Petrucchio then, twirling his mustache, turned confidentially to the audience. "In case it is not altogether clear what is going on here," he said, "I am Petrucchio, a captain from Turia, and have here, under my protection, three noble ladies, each of gentle birth and high station."
There was much laughter here. The girls, of course, as the audience well knew, would all be slaves. They were, after all, upon a stage. They were, of course, Rowena, Lady Telitsia and Bina. There were only men in the audience. To be sure, there was an empty place at the right hand of Belnar, the ubar of Brundisium. I had seen him only once before, in a royal box, set among the tiers at the baiting pit. He was a corpulent, greasy-looking fellow. On his left hand sat Flaminius, who seemed in a glum mood this evening. Also about them were various officers and officials. Two or three cushions down, on Belnar's left, was a fellow in the robes of the caste of players, Temenides, of Cos. It was interesting to me that a member of the caste of players should be seated at the first table, and particularly, in this city, one allied with Ar, one of Cos. To be sure, there tend to be few restrictions on the movements of players on Gor. They tend to travel about, on the whole, pretty much as they please. They tend to have free access almost everywhere, being welcomed, unquestioned, in most Gorean camps, villages, town and cities. In this respect, they tend to resemble musicians, who generally enjoy similar privileges. There is a saying on Gor, "No musician can be a stranger." This saying is sometimes, too, applied to members of the caste of players. The saying is somewhat difficult to translate into English, for in Gorean, as not in English, the same word is commonly used for both «stranger» and "enemy." When one understands that, of course, it is easier to understand the saying in its full meaning.
"Is it true that you are," inquired Chino, "as you suggested when first you called our attention to your perspicacity in penetrating disguises, Petrucchio?"
"Yes," said Petrucchio.
"Who is Petrucchio?" asked Lecchio. "I have never heard of him. Surely you have not either."
"The noble Petrucchio, the famed Petrucchio?" asked Chino.
"Chino," protested Lecchio.
"Shhh," said Chino, admonishing his companion.
"Yes," said Petrucchio.
"The courageous Petrucchio?"
"Chino!" said Lecchio.
"Shhh," said Chino, again admonishing his companion to silence.
"Yes," said Petrucchio.
"The glorious and clever Petrucchio?"
"Yes," said Petrucchio.
"He of Turia?" inquired Chino.
` "Yes," said Petrucchio. "Quake, of you must. Quail, if you would rather."
"Surely you have heard of this fellow, Lecchio," said Chino to his companion.
"No," admitted Lecchio, which response brought a swift kick in the shins. "Yes, yes!" cried Lecchio. "Of course, the great Petrucchio!"
"Ws it not he who single-handedly carved broad swaths thought the legion of ten cities in the seven meadows of Saleria?" asked Chino of Lecchio.
"I see that my reputation has preceded me," said Petrucchio, twirling his mustache.
"And lifted the sieges of eleven cities?"
"Maybe," said Lecchio.
"And breached the gates of fifteen?"
"Maybe," said Lecchio.
"And alone stormed the ramparts of twenty cities, reducing them to rubble?" asked Chino.
"I think so," said Lecchio, uncertainly.
"And when set upon by ten thousand Tuchuks in their own country routed them all?"
"Eleven thousand," said Petrucchio.
"Yes," cried Lecchio. "It was he!"
"None other," said Petrucchio.
"What bring you to these lands, noble captain?" inquired Chino. "Is it your intention to bring them to devastation, perhaps for some fancied slight to your honor?"
"No, no," said Petrucchio, modestly.
"Is it then the sacking of a few cities you are up to?"
"No," admitted Petrucchio.
"Not even the defeating of a small army?"
"No," he said.
"Not even the burning of a few fields, the seizure of a piddling harvest or two?
"No," said Petrucchio.
"What then, possibly, could you be doing here?" inquired Chino.
"I am, as you may have by now surmised, Petrucchio," said Petrucchio, "a captain of Turia, and have here," and her he indicated the women behind him, "under my protection, for which services I have taken fee, three noble ladies, each of gentle birth and high station."
"They are, then, all free women?" asked Chino.
"Of course!" responded Petrucchio, somewhat huffily, seemingly prepared, at the drop of an innuendo, to take umbrage, with all the fearsome consequences which that might entail for a hapless offender.
"How fortunate they are to be under the care of one so skilled and courageous, as well as wise," said Chino, adding, seemingly 'sotto voice', to Lecchio, "or so it would seem."
"What, ho!" cried Petrucchio. "What means this, 'or so it would seem'?"
"His hearing," said Chino to Lecchio, who was sticking his finger in his ear and shaking his head, as though to restore his sense of hearing after having been partially deafened, "is more acute than that of the prowling sleen!" Then he said to Petrucchio, "Oh, it is nothing, I suppose."
"And what, good sir," demanded Petrucchio, "might be the meaning of this guarded 'I suppose'?"
"Why, it, too, is nothing," said Chino, adding, "-I suppose."
"Do you doubt my capacity to defend these damsels to the death, against even armies?" asked Petrucchio.
"Not at all," said Chino, hastily. "I was merely wondering if such extreme exertions on their behalf might, under the possible circumstances, be fully justified."
"I do not take your meaning, sir," said Petrucchio, warily.
"They are, of course, free women," said Chino, reassuring himself of the point.
"Of course," said Petrucchio.
"Then my fears are groundless," said Chino, relieved.
"What fears?" asked Petrucchio.
"From what rich, high city might you be coming?" he asked, as though it mattered naught, but, obviously, secretly, as though it might matter a great deal.
"Why from the high towers of Pseudopolis," said Petrucchio.
There is no such city or town, of course. It was invented for the purposes of the play. Too, there is no really good translation into English for the town. Similar English inventions might be such things as «Phonyville» or "Bamboozleberg."
"It is as I feared," groaned Chino, supposedly merely to Lecchio.
"It is?" asked Lecchio.
"Yes," said Chino, dismally.
"Here, here," called Petrucchio. "What is going on there?"
"No," said Chino, firmly. "It is impossible. The very thought is absurd."
"What are you talking about?" pressed Petrucchio.
"It is nothing, Captain," said Chino. "Though, to be sure, if it were not for my confidence in your acuity and unerring judgment, I would suspect there might be cause for serious alarm."
"Speak clearly, fellow," demanded Petrucchio.
"You have, of course, been paid in advance for your troubles?" asked Chino.
"Of course," said Petrucchio.
"In authenticated gold, naturally," added Chino.
"Authenticated gold?" asked Petrucchio.
"Of course," said Chino. "If you have not had the coins authenticated, my friend, Lecchio, here, is certified by the caste of Builders to perform the relevant tests."
"We assure you, good sir," said one of the women, Rowena, "that our gold is good!"
"It might not hurt to check on the matter, I think," speculated Petrucchio, suspiciously, "especially as we have here at our disposal one qualified to conduct the assays."
"Unnecessary!" cried Rowena.
"Insulting!" cried Lady Telitsia.
"Absurd!" cried Bina.
"It seems they are not eager for the coins to be tested," observed Chino, meaningfully, adding, "even though there would be no charge for the service. I wonder why?"
"No charge, you say?" asked Petrucchio.
"Not between friends, such as we," said Chino.
"By all means, then," cried Petrucchio, and, with difficulty, he sheathed his great sword, and drew three pieces of gold-colored metal from his wallet, stage coins, handing them to Lecchio.
Lecchio held the coins up, one by one, holding up also, behind them, one or two fingers, as though he would see if he could peer through them.
"How are they?" asked Chino.
"So far, they seem good," Lecchio muttered, "but many forgeries pass the first test." He then drew from his pack a glass of the Builders, used for identifying distant objects. "Oh, oh," he muttered, darkly.
"What is it?" asked Petrucchio, eagerly.
"It is too early to tell," said Lecchio, replacing the glass of the Builders in his pack. "I must be sure."
"Surely things are all right," said Chino, optimistically.
"Doubtless," said Lecchio. "Doubtless." But he seemed a bit uncertain about it.
In a moment now he was clinking the coins carefully together. He listened to these small sounds intently, professionally. Then he spit on each coin and, with his index finger, carefully rubbed the moisture into small, exact circles, observing their appearance. He then lifted his index finger up, his eyes closed, holding it first turned to the wind, and then away from the wind, and then, his eyes opened, repeated the test, studying his finger intently. He then commenced his final doubtless decisive round of tests. He bit into one of the coins. then he drew forth from his pack a small vial filled with white crystals which he sprinkled on the coins. "What is that?" asked Petrucchio. "They are best with salt," said Lecchio. He then repeated the test, and bit each of the coins carefully, thoughtfully, expertly, not hurrying, as a connoisseur might sample varieties of Bazi tea or fine wines.
"Yes, yes?" asked Chino.
Lecchio's face was drawn and grim.
"Yes, yes!" pressed Petrucchio.
"False," announced Lecchio, grimly.
"No!" cried Rowena.
"What is the meaning of this?" said Petrucchio to the women, sternly.
Lecchio dropped the coins into his wallet.
"If there should be anything wrong with the coins," said Rowena, "I assure you we have no knowledge of it. Further, if anything, in spite of our intentions and care in these matters, should prove to be truly amiss, perhaps because of some oversight or subtle inadvertence, have no fear but what it will be promptly corrected."
"Let us see your other coins," said Lecchio.
"Sir!" cried Rowena.
"That we may see if they be genuine," he said, menacingly.
"I assure you that they are," said Rowena.
"Let them be examined," said Lecchio, "that a determination in the matter may be made."
"He is certified by the Builders," Chino reminded them.
"Will it be necessary to remove them from you by force, for the tests?" asked Lecchio.
"No," said Rowena. She, then, and the others, handed over their purses to Lecchio, under the watchful eye of the suspicious Petrucchio.
"Now then, too," said Lecchio, grimly, "your secret purses, those concealed in your clothes, those strapped to your left thighs."
The girls, protesting, squeaking with outrage, turned away from the men, bending over and thrusting about under their cumbersome robes of concealment. More purses and packets were delivered to Lecchio.
"And now, ladies," said he, "your most secret purses."
"No!" the cried, outraged.
"Or we must make our own probes," he said.
"Oh, oh!" they cried in misery, and turned away again. Three more coins were produced for Lecchio. The women then, angrily, smoothed down their garments.
"Do you have any more?" asked Chino, in assistance to Lecchio.
"No!" said Rowena.
"Are you sure?" asked Chino.
"Yes!" cried Rowena. "We are now as coinless as slaves!"
"Excellent," said Chino.
"Excellent!" cried Rowena.
"Yes," said Chino. "And it is interesting that you should put it just that way."
"What mean you, Sir?" demanded Rowena.
"Oh, nothing," said Chino.
Lecchio, this time, it seemed, could make his determinations with little more than a cursory glance. "These coins are genuine," he said.
"Certainly they are!" cried Rowena.
"But they are doubtless stolen," said Lecchio, gravely.
"What!" cried Rowena.
"What is the amount?" inquired Chino.
"Three double tarns, fifteen tarns, eighteen silver tarsks, twenty-seven copper tarsks, and one hundred and five tarsk-bits," said Lecchio.
"It is as I feared!" cried Chino.
"Precisely," said Lecchio.
"I do not understand," said Petrucchio.
"That is the exact amount of money stolen from the vintner, Groppus, of Pseudopolis."
"Ah!" cried Petrucchio, scandalized.
"It could, of course, be a coincidence," said Chino. "When did you leave Pseudopolis?"
"Two days ago, in the afternoon," said Petrucchio.
"It was just two days ago, in the morning, that the theft took place," said Lecchio.
"It could be a coincidence," suggested Chino.
"Of course," agreed Lecchio.
"This is absurd!" cried Rowena.
"It is our money!" cried Lady Telitsia.
"Give it back to us!" cried Bina.
"Be patient, ladies," said Chino. "-if ladies you truly be."
"What means this 'if ladies you truly be'?" asked Petrucchio.
"It has to do with our suspicions," said Chino.
"What suspicions?" inquired Petrucchio, anxiously.
"Oh, nothing," said Chino, evasively.
"Speak, fellow!" cried Petrucchio, yanking at his sword. Then he gave up the attempt, it apparently being stuck in the sheath.
"You have know these women personally, of course, for several years?" said Chino.
"No," said Petrucchio. "I am actually from Turia."
"It is probably nothing," said Chino, reassuringly.
"Give us back our money!" cried Rowena.
"Speak!" demanded Petrucchio.
"It is only that two days ago, in the morning," said Chino, "in Pseudopolis, a sum of three double tarns, fifteen tarns, eighteen silver tarsks, twenty-seven copper tarsks, and one hundred and five tarsk-bits was stolen from the vintner, Groppus, by three female slaves masquerading as free women, reported to be heading in this direction, clad in garments precisely like those, on this road."
"That is the exact sum discovered on these women, it is not?" asked Petrucchio.
"Why, yes, it is," said Lecchio, apparently quickly checking the matter.
"And many other things, too, seem to tally," said Petrucchio, alarmed.
"It could all be a coincidence," said Lecchio.
"Of course," hastily agreed Chino.
"Perhaps to you it might all seem a coincidence," said Petrucchio, "but to one such as I, one of the caste of warriors, one trained in wariness and discernment, it seems there might be more to it."
"Oh," asked Chino, interested.
"Yes," said Petrucchio.
"There is no vintner, Groppus, in Pseudopolis!" said Rowena.
"They are also reputed to be splendid liars," said Chino.
"I suspect that these three women with me might not be precisely what they seem," hinted Petrucchio, darkly.
"What!" cried Chino.
"What!" cried Lecchio.
"I think it is possible," said Petrucchio, confidentially, to Chino and Lecchio, "that these very women with me may be the escaped slaves of whom you speak."
"No!" cried Chino.
"No!" cried Lecchio.
"Think," said Petrucchio to them. "It was false coins they offered me in return for my services. Surely that is suspicious, if nothing else. Similarly the resources pooled among them, as we have ascertained, total the exact amount purloined from the wronged Groppus of Pseudopolis. Too, the theft took place just shortly before we left the city, thus permitting them to be in the place of the crime itself, and then giving them time to flee the city. Too, there are three of them, and they are heading on this road, in this direction, in exactly those garments."
Chino and Lecchio looked at one another, frightened, impressed.
Petrucchio then stood upright, and twirled his mustaches, meaningfully.
"What should we do?" asked Chino, looking to Petrucchio, naturally enough, in the situation, for guidance.
"Surely, for one thing," said Lecchio, "we must keep this money, until it can be determined who its proper owner, or owners, may be."
"That is for certain," agreed Petrucchio.
"Give us back our money," said Lady Telitsia.
Petrucchio turned about and looked sternly upon the women. They huddled together under this fierce gaze, drawing back.
Lecchio and Chino hastily poured the coins into their wallets.
"Are you all free women?" asked Petrucchio.
"Certainly!" said Rowena.
"Certainly!" said Lady Telitsia.
"Certainly!" cried Bina.
"What were the names of the escaped slaves?" asked Petrucchio of Chino and Lecchio.
"Lana, Tana and Bana," said Chino, quickly.
"Yes, that is right," said Lecchio.
"Are you Lana, Tana and Bana?" asked Petrucchio.
"No," cried Rowena. "I am the Lady Rowena of Pseudopolis!"
"And I am the Lady Telitsia of Pseudopolis!" said Lady Telitsia.
"And I the Lady Bina of Pseudopolis!" said Bina.
There was some laughter at this from the audience, for «Bina» is a not uncommon slave name. The word «bina» is generally used to designate very pretty beads, but beads which, nonetheless, are cheap, common, and simple. They are usually of painted wood or glass. With such beads common slaves, if they are sufficiently pleasing, might hope to be permitted to adorn themselves. Sometimes slave girls fight fiercely over such beads. The best simple translation of «bina» is "slave beads." In the context of the play, of course, the audience took her, like the others, for the free woman she was supposed to be.
"It seems our suspicions are unfounded," said Petrucchio, relieved, "for these are not Lana, Tana, and Bana, miserable escaped slaves, but the ladies Rowena, Telitsia and Bina, of Pseudopolis."
Chino and Lecchio looked at one another, disbelievingly. Then Chino said, "Unless, of course, they are lying."
"Ah!" said Petrucchio, thoughtfully, twirling a mustache.
"Give us back our money!" said Rowena.
"Let us make a determination on the matter," said Chino.
"How shall we do that?" asked Petrucchio.
"Give us our money" cried Rowena.
"Be silent, female," said Chino.
"Female?" she said, startled.
"Yes, 'female'," he said.
"What do you suggest?" asked Petrucchio.
"Tests," said Chino, gravely.
"What do you have in mind?" asked Petrucchio, alarmed.
"Put back your hood, take off your veil, you," said Chino to Rowena.
"My hood! My veil!" she cried.
"Yes," said Chino.
"Never!" she cried.
Chino regarded her, grimly.
"Why?" she asked.
"We wish to determine whether you are a free woman, or a slave," he said.
"A slave!" she cried, outraged. "I shall have you taken before the law for slander!"
"Do you wish to have it done for you?" inquired Chino, meaningfully.
"No!" she cried.
"Then, comply," said Chino.
"Comply!" she cried.
"Yes," said Chino, " and quickly."
"This is an outrage!" she cried. "It is an unspeakable insult! I shall have the magistrates on you for this!"
Chino took a quick step toward her, and she stepped back hastily, fumbling with the hood and veil.
"We shall now quickly see if you are a free woman or a slave," he said.
"How dare you even suggest such a thing!" she cried. "You are a slandering sleen!" But she removed her hood and veil, quickly, frightened, complying.
"There!" cried Chino, triumphantly.
"There!" cried Lecchio, triumphantly.
"That is the face of a slave, if I ever saw one!" cried Chino.
"Yes!" cried Lecchio.
"No!" cried Rowena, but, to be sure, she put down her head and almost began to laugh. Men in the audience, too, laughed. Too, there was genuine applause in the audience for her beauty. She kept her head down for a moment, appreciatively basking in this, radiantly. Only too obviously she was that beautiful, beautiful enough to be a slave. Then she lifted her head again, struggling to return to character.
"No! No!" she said, half laughing.
"Oh, but yes!" called a man from the audience.
"Yes, Master," she whispered, her lips forming the words. "Thank you, Master." Then her lips pursed a moment and sped him a kiss. I had little doubt he would call for her after the performance.
"You, there, too!" called Chino to Lady Telitsia. "And you, as well, little female," he said to Bina.
In a moment they, too, had thrust back their hoods and removed their veils.
"There!" cried Chino, triumphantly. "And, there! Those, too, are the faces of slaves!"
There was agreement shouted from the audience. They were pleased, of course, to see the girls, at last.
"No!" cried Lady Telitsia.
"No!" cried Bina, dutifully.
There was more laughter from the audience.
"You see," said Chino to Petrucchio, "they have the faces of slaves."
"Clearly," agreed Petrucchio.
The girls cried out in protest.
"It remains, of course," said Chino, "to see if they have the bodies of slaves."
"Of course," granted Petrucchio, twirling a mustache.
"No!" cried the girls.
"Strip," commanded Chino, "now, totally!"
"No!" cried the girls, but, at a menacing gesture from Chino, the meaningful lifting of his open right hand, suggesting that the least dilatoriness might be rewarded with cuffings, or worse, as though they might be mere slaves, they hastened to comply. The audience shouted its encouragement. The girls were quite lovely. Their disrobing, leaving only scarves about their necks, concealing their collars, and round, adhesive patches on their thighs, concealing their brands, was done mostly in character, but Bina, once, with a final wrap-around, sliplike garment, drew it away from her with a sensuousness, a pride and insolence, that clearly proclaimed her slave. I did not think she would have done this before having been given in to the use of the player. Indeed, she was facing the player when she did it, and I suspected that it was primarily for him that she had so slave-bared herself. He, in the audience, joined in the applause. She smiled. His slave bracelet was on her wrist. Her use was his.
Chino seized Rowena by the hair, and, lifting his arm up, held her up straight, before Petrucchio, and Lecchio took Lady Telitsia and Bina into custody, one in each hand, in exactly the same fashion, making them stand up straight, displaying them identically. "Do they have the bodies of slaves?" Chino asked the audience.
"Yes!" shouted several of the men in the audience. It was true. Their bodies had been designed by nature to be incredibly exciting and attractive to men, and to provide men with incomparable pleasures and services.
"Not the slave bodies," said Chino to Petrucchio.
"Yes," said Petrucchio, noting them well.
"And their delicious slave curves," said Chino, bending Rowena back a bit.
"Yes!" said Petrucchio.
"No! No!" cried the girls.
"But can they move as slaves?" inquired Chino.
"Never!" cried Rowena.
"Wiggle, Lana," said Chino.
"I am the Lady Rowena of Pseudopolis!" cried Rowena.
"Now," said Chino.
"Never!" she cried. "Oh!" she cried, wincing, Chino's hand in her hair, tightening and twisting, instructing her in obedience.
"See?" asked Chino of Petrucchio.
"Yes," said Petrucchio.
"Very good, Lana," said Chino. "That is enough for now, thank you. You, now, Tana. You, now, Bana." At his words, of course, Lady Telitsia and Bina, too, wiggled, and, in Lecchio's grip, having little choice, wiggled well. The girls were not dancers, of course, but they were slaves. A woman who has been in a collar and helplessly in the hands of men does this sort of thing rather differently, of course, than would a virgin or an inert free woman. They cannot help it. Still, in the comedic situation, given their characterizations, they strove, successfully, I think, to give the impression of free women being forced to move in this fashion and yet, at the same time, marvelously, managed to be sexually attractive. The movements, of course, were not, nor were they intended to be, those of an actually displayed slave in such a predicament, say, in a market or capture camp, being commanded, say to «move» before men. On the other hand, at one point, Bina did twist toward the player and, somewhat out of character, moved in such a way that there was no doubt that it was to him, he how had her current use, that she was presenting herself. He raised his hand a small way above the table, hardly more than a movement of fingers, acknowledging this. She then returned to character, still helpless, of course, in Lecchio's grip.
"Very good, girls," said Chino. "What do you think?" he asked.
"Clearly they are slaves," said Petrucchio.
"No!" protested the girls.
"Down on your hands and knees, facing that direction," said Chino to Rowena. "You, Tana, behind her identically postured, and you, Bana, behind her, same position!"
"I assure you," said Rowena, "you are making a terrible mistake. I am the Lady Rowena of Pseudopolis!"
"And I am the Lady Telitsia of Pseudopolis," said Lady Telitsia.
"And I," cried Bina, "am the Lady Bina of Pseudopolis!"
"You see?" asked Chino. "They position themselves exactly like slaves."
"Yes," said Petrucchio, considering this additional evidence.
"I assure you," protested Rowena, "our identities are exactly as we claim. Examine our documents!"
"It is a simple matter to produce forgeries," said Lecchio.
"Oh!" cried Rowena, in frustration.
"You are clever slaves, to be sure," said Chino, "but now it is all over for you. You have been caught."
"We are not slaves!" cried Rowena.
"They look well, positioned, do they not?" asked Chino.
"Yes," admitted Petrucchio.
"We are not slaves!" cried Rowena. "Look! Look! We are not collared! We are not branded!" These lines were quite acceptable in the context of the play. IN the play, as I have indicated, the collars were covered by light scarves and the brands by circular, adhesive patches. Thus in virtue of these simple theatrical conventions, the slaves were understood as, and unhesitantly accepted as, free women.
"That was doubtless much the trouble," said Chino, disapprovingly. "Their former masters were too indulgent with them."
"I shall have the law on you for this!" cried Rowena.
"Slaves have no standing before the law," said Chino. "Surely you know that, Lana."
"I am not Lana," she cried. "I am a free woman! I am not a slave!"
"Perhaps you should consider being silent," suggested Chino, "lest you be whipped for lying."
"Perhaps we should proceed with caution," said Petrucchio.
"They are clever slaves," mused Lecchio.
"I doubt that they are clever enough to fool one such as the great Petrucchio," said Chino.
"I do not know," said Lecchio, worryingly. Then he turned to Petrucchio. "Can such slaves fool you?" he asked.
"No," said Petrucchio. "Of course not!"
"See?" Chino said to Lecchio.
"Yes," said Lecchio.
"We are not slaves!" cried Rowena.
"Let us see if they chain as slaves," said Chino. "Do you have some chains in your things?" he asked Petrucchio.
"yes," said Petrucchio.
"What are you talking about?" demanded Rowena.
Chains, with collars, were brought out. "Oh!" said Bina, a collar with its looped chain in the hands of Chino, closed about her neck.
"What is going on?" asked Rowena, at the head of the line.
The chain, with two more collars, was passed between the legs, under the body, and between the arms of Lady Telitsia. "Oh!" she said. She now wore the chain's middle collar.
"I hear the clink of chain!" cried Rowena. "What is going on?"
"Oh!" she cried, now in the first collar, its chain looping back beneath her body, and then looping up to Lady Telitsia's collar, from whose collar, of course, her own chain, passing beneath her body, swung back to keep its own sturdy, linked-steel rendezvous with the ring on the third collar, that locked on Bina's neck.
"you see," said Chino. "They chain as slaves."
"Yes," said Petrucchio, twirling a mustache. "The evidence mounts moment by moment. They have the faces of slaves. They have the bodies of slaves. They wiggle like slaves. They position like slaves. They chain like slaves. Clearly they are slaves. The matter is beyond all doubt."
"Not quite," said Lecchio, musingly.
"Oh?" asked Petrucchio.
"He is right," granted Chino. "We must see if they switch as slaves."
"Do not you dare!" cried Rowena.
Lecchio produced a switch, presumably from somewhere at the roadside.
"Oh!" cried Bina. An elongated, bright red mark was now upon her pretty white fundament, and now her entire cheek flared scarlet.
Again there was a hiss of the switch.
"Oh!" cried Lady Telitsia, similarly marked and colored.
"Do not you dare!" cried Rowena. "Do not you dare!" But her cries went unheeded. "Oh!" she cried. "Oh!" she cried again. "Oh!" she cried, yet again. Lecchio, incidentally, although he did not strike the girls as hard as he might have, was, nonetheless, in may ways, all things considered, a stickler for theatrical verisimilitude. he did give the girls actual, sharp, smart blows. This was called for in the characterization, and in the dramatic situation, of course. To be sure, had the actresses actually been free women, in real life, it would have been unthinkable.
"The evidence is complete," said Lecchio.
"You have now captured Lana, Tana and Bana," said Chino to Petrucchio. "Well done, Captain."
"It is nothing," said Petrucchio, modestly.
"We are free women!" cried Rowena. "Let us go!"
"When you slaves are properly branded and collared," said Chino to Rowena, "that will be the end of your silliness. Your days of pretending to be free females will then be over."
"Let us go!" she cried. "Oh! Oh!" she cried, again striped, and twice.
"Did you have anything more to say?" asked Chino.
"No!" she said.
"No, what?" he asked.
"Never!" she said.
Again the switch fell.
"No-Master!" she said.
Lecchio now raised the switch near Lady Telitsia, and Bina. "Master!" cried Lady Telitsia. "Master!" cried Bina.
"Well," said Petrucchio. "I shall now return these captured slaves to Pseudopolis, where, doubtless, I shall receive a fine reward."
"A fine reward indeed he would be likely to receive," said Chino, confidentially, to the audience. "He would be fortunate, indeed, if he were not subjected to a thousand tortures, and then, if time permitted, impaled on the walls by sundown."
"If we let good Petrucchio return to Pseudopolis," said Lecchio, also addressing the audience, "that might well be the end of him and then our troupe and hundreds of other troupes, in ferior to ours, would be forced to do without him."
"I do not think the theater could sustain such a blow," said Chino to the crowd.
"Nor I," agreed Lecchio.
"Too, of course," confided Chino to the crowd, "we have had our eyes on these wenches from the beginning. It is our intention to make a profit not only on their coins and clothing, but on them, as well. I think they should bring us a few coins. What do you think?"
There were shouts of agreement from the audience.
"What are you babbling about?" inquired Petrucchio. "And to whom are you talking?"
"Oh, to no one," said Chino, innocently.
Petrucchio himself then turned to the audience. "I must be wary of these rascals," he said. "they seem like good fellows, but on the road one can never be too sure."
"To whom are you talking?" asked Chino.
"Oh, to no one," said Petrucchio, innocently.
"Give us these wenches," said Chino. "In some towns that way," he said, gesturing behind him with a jerk of his thumb, "we know some shops where these little puddings should bring a good price. Let us sell them for you."
"I grow instantly suspicious," said Petrucchio to the crowd. "But," said he to Chino, "what of returning them to their masters for rewards?"
"But what if there are no rewards?" said Chino.
"That is a sobering thought," said Petruccio to the audience. "Well then," said he to Chino, "let me take them down the road and see how at these shops of which you speak go this day's pudding prices."
"Return us to Pseudopolis!" begged Rowena.
"To weak masters who did not even have you collared and branded!" scoffed Chino. "No! You will be sold to strong men who will well teach you your womanhood."
Rowena groaned.
"Did you ask permission to speak?" inquired Lecchio.
"No," se said, "-Master."
She was then, to the amusement of the crowd, given another stripe.
"May I speak, Master!" begged Rowena.
"No," said Lecchio.
"I thought," said Petrucchio, "that you two were going toward Pseudopolis, not back the other way."
"We were," said Chino, "but Lecchio here forgot a ball of yarn, having left it in a Cal-da shop."
"I did?" asked Lecchio.
"Surely you remember?" asked Chino.
"No," said Lecchio.
"I remember it quite clearly," said Chino.
"That is good enough for me," said Lecchio. "It was probably not an important ball of yarn."
"And we are going back for it, anyway," said Chino.
"All that way?" asked Lecchio, "for only a ball of yarn?"
"Yes," said Chino, irritably.
"It must have been an important ball of yarn," said Lecchio.
"It was," said Chino, angrily.
"Then it seems I should remember it," said Lecchio.
At this point Chino delivered to Lecchio one of the numerous kicks in the shins, and such, which the crowds had come to expect in these diversions.
"That ball of yarn!" cried Lecchio.
"Yes, that one," said Chino.
"I remember it clearly," said Lecchio. "It was red."
"Yellow," said Chino.
"Well, I remembered it fairly clearly," said Lecchio.
"Very well, my friends," said Petrucchio, indicating the direction from whence Chino and Lecchio had come, "we shall all go this way. WE can travel together."
"We welcome your company," said Chino. "There is little to fear in that direction, as long as one is not from Turia. By the way, where did you say you were from?"
"Turia," said Petrucchio, puzzled.
"That could be very unfortunate," said Chino, apprehensively.
"How is that?" asked Petrucchio.
"But it probably does not matter," speculated Chino, "given your prowess in combat."
"I do not understand," said Petrucchio.
"It is only that we have recently come from that way," he said, gesturing with his head back down the road.
"Yes?" said Petrucchio.
"You have probably not yet heard the news," said Chino. "Yet perhaps you have. It is spreading like wildfire."
"What news?" asked Petrucchio.
"The war," said Chino.
"What war? asked Petruccio.
"The war with Turia," said Chino.
"What war with Turia?" asked Petrucchio.
"Ten downs down the road," he said, "have jsut declared war on Turia. A great hunt is on. They are looking for fellows from Turia."
"What for?" asked Petrucchio, alarmed.
"I am not sure," said Chino. "It was hard to make out, for all the shouting and the clashing of weapons. I think it was something about frying them in tarsk grease or boiling them alive in tharlarion oil, I am not really sure."
Petrucchio began to quake in terror.
"I see that you are trembling with military ardor," said Chino.
"Yes," Petrucchio assured him.
"You are welcome to come with us, of course," said Chino. "The warding off of bloodthirsty troops and maddened, hostile mobs, with bulging eyes, would be nothing for you."
"True," asserted Petrucchio, "but I am in spite of my fierce appearance sometimes a gentle fellow, one who is often hesitant to wreak broadcast massacre too impulsively, particularly on so balmy a day. Too, only this morning, as luck would have it, I cleansed my sword from my most recent slaughters and I am accordingly loath to immerse it so soon once more in baths of blood."
"You may actually spare, then, the maddened mobs and the town militias, the assembled soldiery of the district?"
"Perhaps," said Petrucchio.
"It is a lucky day for these lands then," said Chino.
"Dispose of the puddings," said Petrucchio. "I shall wait here."
"It may be difficult to make it back through the war zone," said Chino. "Too, it may be dangerous to remain here."
"Dangerous?" asked Petrucchio.
"Yes, for the mobs and soldiers," said Chino. "They are scouring the countryside, looking for Turians. If they should find you here, it would be too bad for them, even in all their numbers."
"Certainly, certainly," said Petrucchio, looking anxiously about himself. "What do you suggest?"
"I wonder what all that dust is over there," said Chino, looking off in one direction.
"I do not see any dust," said Petrucchio, anxiously.
"It was probably just my imagination," said Chino.
"Perhaps you could give me something now," said Petrucchio.
"We are very short on cash," said Chino.
"But you have the gold," said Petrucchio.
"You do not wish to be paid in false gold, or stolen gold, do you?" asked Chino, disbelievingly.
"No, of course not," said Petrucchio.
"Perhaps we could have a wager," said Chino, drawing out a coin. "Do you wish top or bottom?"
"Top," said Petrucchio.
Chino flipped the coin, looked at it, and tucked it back in his wallet. "Bottom," he said.
"I did not see the coin!" said Petrucchio.
"There," said Chino, fishing out the coin, and pointing to it. "Bottom," he said, indicating the coin's reverse.
"You're right," said Petrucchio, dismayed.
"Would you care for another wager?" asked Chino.
"Yes," said Petrucchio.
"I am thinking of a number between one and three," said Chino.
"Two!" cried Petrucchio.
"Sorry," said Chino. "I was thinking of two and seven eighths."
"Captain Petrucchio," cried Rowena. "May I speak!"
"Of course," said Petrucchio.
"Do not let these rascals trick you," she cried. "I assure you we are truly free women."
"Are you?" asked Petrucchio, now that he had lost he wagers apparently being willing to reconsider that matter.
"Yes," she cried. "Do not be beguiled by our brazenly bared flesh, our degrading positions, our neck chains, forced upon us by men!"
"I wonder," mused Petrucchio.
"You know the nature of Gorean masters," she said. "Do you think that if we were truly slaves, we would not be branded and collared? Gorean masters are not that permissive, not that indulgent, with their women!"
"You will soon learn, Lana," said Chino, "and more clearly and vividly than you can even now begin to imagine just how true that is."
She groaned.
"I am perplexed," Petrucchio informed the crowd. "Yet I think that I, as a soldier, must be prepared to take prompt and decisive action." He then turned to Chino and Lecchio. "Hold, rogues!" he cried. "I suspect chicanery here, for which I intend you shall sorely answer. Tremble! Shudder! Quake in terror, for I, Petruccio, draw upon you!" He then began to try to pull his great wooden sword from its lengthy sheath, dragging behind him. As was not unoften the case it seemed to be stuck. Chino, and then Lecchio, too, helped Petruccio, bit by bit, to free that mighty wooden blade. "Thank you," said Petrucchio. "You are welcome," said Chino and Lecchio.
"Now, craven sleen," cried Petrucchio, flourishing that great blade, freed at last of its housing, "be off!"
"Very well," said Chino. "Come along, girls."
"Hold!" cried Petrucchio.
"Yes?" asked Chino.
"Surrender to me these poor wronged women!"
"Wronged women?" asked Chino.
"These are not slaves," cried Petruccio. "They are free women!"
"But all women are slaves," said Chino. "It is only that some lack the collar and brand."
"Save us!" cried Rowena.
"They are not yet legal slaves!" said Petrucchio.
"Even if they are not yet legal slaves, for the sake of argument," said Chino, "that detail can be rectified by sundown."
"Surrender them to me," demanded Petruccio, grimly, resting the point of that sword on the platform, its hilt now, in his hand, over his head. With his other hand he characteristically twirled a mustache. "If you surrender them promptly, without a fight, I may be tempted to spare your miserable lives."
"That sounds fair," said Lecchio.
"We would be happy to surrender them," said Chino, paying his partner no attention.
"Good," said Petrucchio, transferring his sword to his left hand, that he might now twirl his mustache with his right hand.
"But unfortunately," continued Chino, "we cannot, according to our caste codes, do so without a fight."
"What?" asked Petrucchio, paling.
"I am very sorry," said Chino, "but the codes of cloth workers are very strict on such matters."
"Oh? asked Petrucchio, wavering.
"Yes," said Chino. "I am very sorry, but we must engage now, it seems, in a blood melee."
"Are you sure?" asked Petrucchio.
"Yes," said Chino. "But do not blame me. It is not my fault. You know how uncompromising the codes are."
"Do we have enough combatants on hand for a melee?" asked Petrucchio.
"Doubtless much depends upon definitions," said Chino, "but we must make do as best we can."
"I really do not think we can muster the numbers necessary for a genuine melee," insisted Petruccio.
"Then," said Chino, "we must substitute a duel to the death."
"To the-death?" inquired Petruccio.
"Yes, I am afraid so," said Chino. "It seems that only one of us can leave the field alive."
"Only one?" asked Petrucchio.
"Yes," said Chino.
"That is not very many," said Petruccio.
"True," granted Chino.
"But you have no weapons," said Petrucchio.
"There you are mistaken," said Chino.
"I am?" inquired Petruccio, anxiously.
"Yes," said Chino, drawing forth from his pack a large pair of cloth-workers shears.
"What are those?" asked Petruccio, alarmed.
"Fearsome engines of destruction," said Chino, "the dreaded paired blades of Anango. I have never yet lost a fight to the death with them." At this point he snipped the air in his vicinity twice, neatly. "Though to be sure," he said, moodily, "I suppose there could always be a first time. There is seldom a second in such matters."
"The sun glints hideously from their flashing surfaces," said Petrucchio.
"I shall do my best," said Chino, "not to reflect the sun into your eyes with them, thereby blinding you, making you helpless, and thereby distracting you from your charge."
"Are they efficient weapons?" inquired Petrucchio, shuddering.
"Against one such as you, doubtless they will be of small avail," said Chino, meditatively, "but against lesser warriors, war generals, high captains, pride leaders, battle chieftains, instructors in swordmanship, and such, they have proven more than adequate. Let me say simply that they, in their time, have divided the tunics, so to speak, of hundreds of warriors."
"Perhaps the women are not all that beautiful," said Petrucchio.
"What!" cried Rowena.
"Stay on all fours, Lana," warned Chino.
"Yes," said Rowena, quickly adding, as Lecchio lifted the switch menacingly, "-Master!"
"They do seem to be slaves," said Petrucchio.
"Clearly," said Chino.
"We are free!" cried Rowena. "Ai!" she cried, in misery. Her outburst had earned her a smart stroke from Lecchio's switch. She was then silent, the chain clinking, dangling from her collar.
"Perhaps it would be churlish of me," said Petrucchio, "to slay you here upon the road, after we had become such fast friends."
"I would really think so, honestly," said Chino.
"I spare your lives," said Petrucchio generously.
"Thank you," said Chino, warmly.
"That is a relief," said Lecchio. "I was preparing to return a tarsk-bit to Chino from whom I borrowed it last year. Now I need not be in a hurry to do so."
"Furthermore," said Petrucchio, grandly, "I give you the slaves!"
"Slaves!" cried Rowena. Then she again cried out sharply, in pain and protest, and then again, Lecchio having seen to it that a certain portion of her anatomy had renewed its unwilling acquaintance with his fierce switch, was quite docile, and quite silent.
"That is an act of incredible nobility!" cried Chino, overwhelmed.
"Do not even consider it," said Petruccio, as though the astounding magnanimity of such a gesture could possibly be dismissed lightly.
"I cannot praise your generosity to highly," said Chino, leaving it to the audience to interpret this perhaps somewhat ambiguous remark.
"It is nothing, my friend," said Petruccio, modestly.
"Surely the glory of such an act must be long remembered in the songs of Petrucchio, Captain of Turia," exclaimed Chino.
"Have you heard such songs?" inquired Petrucchio.
"In a hundred halls," said Chino, "about a thousand campfires."
"Really?" asked Petrucchio.
"Surely you know them well?" asked Chino.
"Well, some of them," said Petrucchio.
"Your modesty, then, and our time, they being so numerous and lengthy, forbid me recounting them to you."
"Naturally," said Petrucchio.
"We wish you well, noble captain," said Chino, shaking Petrucchio's hand, warmly. "I do not think we shall soon forget our chance encounter with the great Captain Petrucchio."
"That is for certain," said Lecchio.
"Few do," Petrucchio admitted.
"May we have your permission to tell our children and our grandchildren about this?" inquired Chino.
"Yes," said Petrucchio.
"Thank you," said Chino.
"It is nothing," said Petrucchio, as though it might really have been nothing, the bestowal of so priceless a right.
Chino took the switch from Lecchio, and lightly tapped Rowena on the shoulder with it. "Lana," he said, instructing her as to her new name. "Yes, Master," she said, trembling at the touch of the switch, accepting the name. "Tana," he said, tapping Lady Telitsia on the shoulder with the switch. "Yes, Master," she said, accepting the name. "Bana," he said, tapping Bina on the shoulder. "Yes, Master," she said, accepting the name.
Chino handed the switch back to Lecchio who used it, tapping the girls here and there, and brushing it against them for delicate adjustments, to line them up in an exact and careful order.
"Well," said Chino to Petrucchio, after having satisfied himself with the quality of Lecchio's work, "it is time to be on our way. It is time to herd these pretty little she-tarsks to market."
"I hope you get good prices for them," said Petrucchio.
"I am sure we will," said Chino.
The girls, together, aghast, reproachfully, regarded Petrucchio.
"Come now, girls," said Chino, "we must be on our way."
"Move, Lana!" said Lecchio, speeding her into motion with a swift stroke of the fierce, supple switch. "Move, Tana!" said Lecchio, adding another stripe to her, as she, in her place, hastened to move past him. "You, too, Bana!" said Lecchio, adding a swift, smart stripe to her, as well, as she, moaning, at the end of the chain, tried to hurry past him.
Chino and Lecchio, then, following the neck-chained girls, left the stage.
"I wish you well!" Petrucchio called cheerily after them. He then turned to the audience, twirling a mustache. "And thus," he said, "concludes another of the adventures of Petrucchio, Captain of Turia. This has been the story of how Petrucchio penetrated the disguises of three clever female slaves, masquerading as free women, captured them, and returned them to their rightful bondage. IN it has also been told how he generously bestowed the slaves, asking nothing for himself, upon two needy wayfarers."
Petrucchio then apparently looked into the distance. "Oh! Oh!" he cried. "Is that dust upon the horizon? Or is it perhaps my imagination? It could be a group of verr, browsing in the fields. But, too, perhaps, it is nothing. But, too, perhaps it is men from the warring towns, as reported by the cloth workers, intensely combing the hills the fields for harmless Turians. Perhaps I should teach them a lesson. But then again, perhaps it is nothing, a stirring of wind, or even only my imagination. I wonder in what direction I should go? I shall let my sword decide!" Here he seemingly closed his eyes and swung his word about in vast, eccentric circles. "Very well, sword," he said, opening his eyes. "You have mad the choice. I must abide by it, however reluctantly. It is in this direction that we will seek new adventures, lands to be devastated, armies to be defeated, cities to subdue, noble free women to be protected and guarded on dangerous roads." He then set out in the direction in which the sword had pointed. It was, of course, the direction exactly opposite that in which he had, but a moment ago, fearfully, thought he might have discerned a movement of dust in the distance.
IN a moment, smiling and bowing, all the actors had returned to the stage. Rowena, Lady Telitsia and Bina, freed of their chains, now had their collars bared. The scarves which they had worn about them were now knotted about their hips. They were knotting at the left hips, so that the opening was at their left thighs, were, on the thighs, could be seen the circular, adhesive patches they had worn during the play, those patches which, in the conventions of the theater, informed the audience that they were to be taken, for the purposes of the play, as free women, and not the slaves that they really were. Boots Tarsk-Bit leaped, too, to the stage, bowing to the audience, and, with expansive gestures, proudly displayed his actors. Petrucchio, stepping forward, received the most applause. Boots removed, one by one, the circular adhesive patches from the thighs of the girls, this baring their brands. The theatrical convention was now terminated. Once again the girls were revealed to be what they had actually been all the time, only female slaves.
"Thank you, generous folks, noble patrons, citizens of Brundisium, guests and friends of Brundisium!" called Boots. No copper bowls were passed. No coins rattled to the stage. The troupe had already received a purse of gold from Belnar, Ubar of Brundisium. As a reward for their part in my capture the Lady Yanina, as Boots had hoped, had arranged for their performances at the banquet. Boots had spoken to her of such a banquet, and of the "finest entertainment." He, of course, had had in mind his own troupe. "Thank you! Thank you!" called Boots, blowing kisses to the crowd in the Gorean fashion, brushing them from the side with an open hand to the audience.
I looked to the table where reposed Belnar, Ubar of Brundisium. On his left hand sat Flaminius, who, it seemed, had not joined in the applause. Flaminius, as I had earlier noted, did not seem too pleased with the nature and progress of the evening. It was at this table, too, where sat Temenides, a member of the caste of players, one who stood among the high boards of Cos. At the right side of Belnar there was a vacant place. Since this evening was to be a great triumph for the Lady Yanina, celebrating her capture of me and her restoration to favor in Brundisium, I supposed that that place had been reserved for her.
"Present yourselves," said Boots to Rowena and Lady Telitsia, thrusting them forward on the stage.
Rowena stood at the front of the low stage. She put her head back, her hands clasped behind the back of her head and arched her back, her legs bent. Then she put her arms down and back to the sides, her shoulders back, her breasts thrust forward. "Who wants me?" she called. There was then much shouting and clashing of silverware on goblets. Men rushed forward and seized her bodily and carried her, lifted high among them, back to the tables. Then Lady Telitsia stepped to the front of the stage. She thrust her hip out to the left and put her hands high over her head and to the right. She looked down and to the right. "I am not such a beauty," she said to the crowd, plaintively. "I am sure no one will want me."
"Ask! Ask!" demanded dozens of men, laughing, pounding on the goblets and tables with utensils.
"Who wants me?" called out Lady Telitsia, laughing, vibrant and alive in her collar, a slave, the property of Boots Tarsk-Bit, her master.
"I do! I do!" cried more than a dozen men. There was a rush to the stage. Then Lady Telitsia, too, was seized from the stage and carried helplessly, held high above the heads of several men, others crowding about them, back to the tables. Rowena, gasping and writhing, crying out, the scarf torn from her, flung down among the tables, pressed back helplessly to the tiles, held down by the arms, kept in place, by two men, was already serving.
Bina, smiling, hung back, standing between Petrucchio and Chino. ON her left wrist she wore a slave bracelet. It had been put on her by the player. It signified that her use was his. I saw the player from Cos, Temenides, lean toward Belnar, and speak to him. He nodded. Temenides, then, rose behind the table. It was the table of the Ubar.
"Actor!" called Temenides to Boots, contemptuously, loftily.
"Yes, Master?" inquired Boots, pleasantly.
"What of her?" inquired Temenides, pointing to Bina.
"That is our Bina," said Boots. Bina, finding herself the subject of the conversation of free men, instantly knelt. Her time with the player had clearly honed her slave responses. He had not had her use more than a day or two before she had learned, incontrovertibly, what she was.
"Are you her owner?" asked Temenides.
"Yes, Master," said Boots.
"Send her to my table," said Temenides.
"That is not so easy," said Boots.
"Now," said Temenides.
"Though she is my slave," said Boots, in explanation, "yet her use has been given to our player, he who travels with my small and humble troupe."
At this point Bina, alarmed, suddenly put her head down and lifted and extended her left arm, the wrist hanging down. In this fashion she prominently displayed the salve bracelet on her left wrist.
"I want her," said Temenides.
"Please, Master," suggested Boots. "Take our Rowena or Telitsia. Both have learned passion in the collar, and the total of pleasing men."
"It is she whom I want," said Temenides, pointing at Bina. She kept her head down, trembling.
"I have given her use to another," said Boots, desperately.
"It is now time to revoke your misguided and meaningless courtesy," said Temenides. "I instruct you to do so."
"Please, Master," said Boots. "Consider my honor."
"Consider something yourself," said Temenides, player of Cos, "your life."
"Sir?" asked Boots, turning pale.
It interested me that the player should be so bold. He was not in Cos. Indeed, it was somewhat strange that he was here, and certainly strange that he was seated at the table of Belnar. Brundisium was not even an ally of Cos. She was an ally of Ar.
"Reclaim her use rights, now," said Temenides. "You are her master. The ultimate say in this matter is yours. Be quick about it."
Belnar, I noted, rather than suggesting civility in his hall, quaffed paga, noncommittally.
"I am waiting," said Temenides.
Suddenly the player, the hooded player, he called the "monster," he who now had Bina's use, rose form his place at a table and climbed the stairs to the stage. He looked about himself scornfully, regally, an attitude that seemed sorely at odds with his station in a lowly, intinerate troupe. HE placed a coin, a golden tarn disk, in the palm of Boots Tarsk-Bit. Boots looked at it, disbelievingly. He had probably not seen too many coins of that sort in his life. He had particularly, doubtless, never expected to receive one from the player.
"I do not own her!" cried Boots suddenly to Temenides, in relief. He pointed at the player. "He owns her," he said. "He just bought her!"
The girl cried out in astonishment, looking up at the player from her knees.
The hall was now muchly silent. That something of interest might be transpiring on the stage seemed somehow, suddenly, almost as if by secret communication, to be understood by all in that hall. Rowena and Lady Telitsia, breathing heavily, their nipples erected, their bodies red with usage, bruises on their arms where they had been held down and roughly handled, turned to their sides and, palms on the tiles, looked up to the stage. Even the numerous naked slaves who were serving the tables and, as men wished them, the banqueters, stopped serving, and, carrying their vessels and trays, stood still, looking, too, to the stage.
Slowly, beautifully, kneeling before him, looking up at him, Bina opened her thighs before the player.
"You own me," she said to the player.
"Yes," he said.
"You are the first man before whom," she said, "I have ever willingly opened my thighs."
He looked down at her, not speaking.
"I love you," she said.
He did not respond to the slave.
"I love your strength, and your manhood," she said. "And that you have taught me my slavery."
"Kiss my feet," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"So, player," said Temenides, "you know own her. You are a fool to have paid a golden tarn disk for such a woman. But it changes nothing. Send her to my table."
Bina lifted her head from the player's feet. She knelt before him, tears in her eyes, looking up at him. "I love you," she said.
"How can you love a monster," he asked.
"I have secretly loved you for months," she said. "I loved you even when I despised you and hated you, and thought you weak. Now I love you a thousand times more, that you are strong."
"But I am a 'monster'," he said.
"I do not care what you are, or think you are," she said.
"But what of my hideousness?" he asked.
"Your appearance does not matter to me," she said. "I do not care what you look like. It is you, the man, the master, I love."
"I have never been loved," he said.
"I can give you only a slave's love," she said, "but there is no greater, deeper love."
He looked down upon her.
"Do not be weak with me," she begged.
"I will not," he said. "You will when necessary, or when it pleases me, know the whip."
"Yes, Master," she said, happily.
"Perhaps you did not hear me," said Temenides, angrily. "I told you to send her to my table!"
"Send me to his table, Master," she begged. "I will try to serve him well."
"Oh!" she cried, in pain, cuffed to her side on the stage. She looked up at the player, startled, blood at the side of her mouth.
"Were you given permission to speak?" inquired the player.
"No, Master," she said.
"Then be silent," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
The player then turned toward Temenides. "Did you say something?" he asked.
"Send the female slave to my table," said Temenides, angrily, pointing at Bina.
"No," said the player.
"Ubar!" cried Temenides, turning to corpulent Belnar, lounging behind the low table, rolling in his fat, eating grapes.
"Perhaps you could buy her," suggested Belnar, dropping a grape into his mouth.
"He just paid a golden tarn disk for her," protested Temenides.
Belnar, not speaking, slowly put two such disks on the table.
"Thank you, Ubar!" said Temenides. He snatched up the two coins. "Here, fool," he said tot he player, lifting up the coins. "Here is a hundred times what she is worth, and twice what you paid for her! She is now mine!"
"No," said the player.
Temenides cast a startled glance at Belnar. Belnar, saying nothing, put three more coins on the table. There were gasps about the hall. Then five coins, altogether, five golden tarn disks, and of Ar herself, as it was pointed out, were offered to the player for his Bina, lifted in the furious, clenched fist of Temenides, of Cos, one of the masters of the high boards of Kaissa in that powerful island ubarate.
"No," said the player.
"Take her from him," said Temenides to Belnar. "Use your soldiers."
Belnar glanced about himself, to some of the guardsmen at the side of the hall.
"I am a citizen of Ar," said the player. "It is my understanding that the cities of Brundisium and Ar stand leagued firmly in friendship, that the wine has been drunk between them, and the salt and fire shared, that they are pledged both in comity and alliance, military and political. If this is not true, I should like to be informed, that word may be carried to Ar of this change in matters. Similarly, I am curious to know why a player of Cos, no understood ambassador or herald, sits at a high table, at the table even of Belnar, Ubar of this city. Similarly, how is it that Temenides, only a player, and one of Cos, as well, to whom both Brundisium and AR stand opposed, to whom both accord their common defiance, dares to speak so boldly? Perhaps something has occurred of which I was not informed, that ubars now take their orders from enemies, and those not even of high caste?"
Belnar turned away from the soldiers. He did not summon them.
"I have soldiers of my own," said Temenides. "With your permission, Ubar, I shall summon them."
I found this of interest. Surely members of the caste of players do not commonly travel about with a military escort.
Belnar shrugged.
Temenides, triumphantly, turned about, looking about the hall.
"I cannot believe the Belnar is serious," said the player. "Are soldiers of Cos within the walls of Brundisium to receive an official sanction to steal from citizens of Ar? Is that the meaning of our alliance?"
Belnar put another grape in his mouth.
"Ubar?" asked Temenides.
"I have a much better idea," said Belnar, smiling. "He is a player. You will play for her."
The player folded his arms and regarded Temenides.
"Ubar!" protested Temenides. "Consider my honor! I play among the high boards of Cos. This is a mountebank, a player at carnivals, no member even of the caste of players!"
Belnar shrugged.
"Do not think to suggest that I should dishonor my caste by stooping to shame this arrogant cripple. Far nobler it would be to set your finest swordsmen upon some dimwitted bumpkin brandishing a spoon. Let him rather be driven from the hall with the blows of belts like a naked slave for his presumption!"
"Would the court not find such a contest amusing?" inquired Belnar.
Several of the men slapped their shoulders in encouragement. Others called out for a game. I gathered that among those present this discomfiture of Temenides, matching him with so unworthy and preposterous an opponent, might not be unwelcome. In its nature it would be a prank, a practical joke, perhaps a somewhat cruel one, at the least a broad Gorean jest.
"Ubar," said Temenides, "do not call for this match. I have no desire to humiliate this deformed freak more than I have already done. Order the female suppliantly to me."
Bina, terrified, threw herself to her stomach before the player on the platform. She kissed the wood twice before his feet. Then, lifting herself on the palms of her hands, she looked piteously up at him. "Risk not so much in this hall, I beg of you, Master," she wept. "Permit me to crawl suppliantly to him, proposing myself for his pleasures."
"Strip," snarled the player.
Instantly Bina tore away the scarf knotted about her hips, that which had formerly been tied about her throat, concealing her collar.
The player continued to regard her.
She now knelt weeping, trembling, before him, at his mercy, owned, slave naked.
"Now," said the player, "what did you say?"
"Permit me to crawl suppliantly to him, proposing myself for his pleasures," she whispered, frightened.
The player suddenly, angrily, kicked her to her side. She cried out with pain and twisting, frightened, a spurned and disciplined slave, turned to look at him. On her left wrist there was a use bracelet. ON her neck there was a collar. ON her thigh was a brand.
"You belong to me," he said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"It seems," said Belnar to Temenides, amused, "that the player is disinclined to extend to you the female's use."
"Do not seek to force a match between us, Ubar," said Temenides. "I will not consider a match with such a fellow, not with a creature of such outrageous deformity, not with one such as he, one who is, by all reports, at best naught but a harrowingly disfigured monster."
"The slave is exquisite," said Belnar. "Apparently you do not wish to have her yielding helplessly, passionately, obediently in her collar, in your arms."
"Ubar," said Temenides, in protest.
"Play," said Belnar.
"Forcing me to such an extremity," said Temenides, "could well be construed as a state insult in the lofty chambers of Cos."
This remark surprised me. How could such a trivial thing as a joke in Brundisium, one having to do with a mere member of the caste of players, the fellow, Temenides, involve relations among thrones?
"Very well," said Belnar, agreeably, "but forgo then the woman."
Temenides' fists clenched. He regarded Bina, who shrank back from his gaze.
"Play, play!" urged more than one man.
Temenides looked about himself, angrily. Then he regarded the player.
"Perhaps the great Temenides, who holds a high board in Cos, fears to enter into a banquet's friendly game, or, say, an evening's casual tourney, with one who is a mere mountebank, a monster," suggested the player.
There was laughter at this suggestion. Temenides turned red.
"Could it be?" asked the player.
"I do not play bumpkins," said Temenides.
"I, on the other hand," said the player, "am obviously willing to do so."
This remark brought a roar of laughter from the crowd. Even Belnar chuckled. Temenides turned even more red, and clenched his fists savagely. His mood was turning ugly.
Near the feet of the player, Bina trembled, head down.
Temenides rose to his feet. In his movement, studied and unprecipitated, there was resolution and menace. "Very well," said he. "I shall play you, but it shall be but one game, and upon one condition, that the game may be worth my while." The hall was suddenly quiet. Temenides spoke softly and clearly. IN his words there was an exactness, and a chill. His anger now was like the stirring of a beast beneath ice, whose shape may be vaguely seen below, giving some hint of the force and danger lurking in the depths. "We shall play," said he, "not for the mere use of the female, but for her ownership, to see whose collar it will be that shall be locked upon her throat. Further, the life of he who loses shall be forfeit to the victor, to be done with as he pleases."
Several of those in the hall gasped. "But he is a free man," protested one. It is one thing to play for a female, of course, for Goreans tend to regard such as fit for spoils and loot, particularly if they should be, to begin with, naught but properties, mere chattels, but it is quite another to set free males at stake.
Temenides did not respond to this protest.
"And," asked the player, "if you should win, and claim, this forfeit, what might I expect to be your pleasure?"
"That you be boiled alive in the oil of tharlarion," said Temenides.
"I see," said the player. Bina moaned.
"There will now be no game," said one of the fellows at the Ubar's table.
"Well, fellow?" inquired Temenides.
"Agreed," said the player.
Several of those in the hall, free men and naked slaves alike, gasped. "No, no, Master, please!" cried Bina.
"Be silent," said the player.
"Yes, Master," she wept.
"Secure the female," said Belnar. "Let a board and pieces be brought."
Bina's hands were thonged tightly together before her body. A ring, on a rope, one of several, was lowered from the ceiling. These rings, when lowered, hung a few feet above the floor, some six or seven feet above it, in the open space between the tables. These rings may serve various purposes, such as the display of disgraced females destined for slavery, most likely debtors, or the public punishment of errant slaves, but their number is largely dictated by the occasional use of displaying captured, stripped free women of enemy cities. These women, during the course of a victory feast, are caressed by whips, or beaten by them, until they beg, though free, to serve the tables as slaves. After they have so served, Ahn later, they are taken below. there they will be properly branded and collared, and will begin to be taught the lessons, intimate and otherwise, appropriate to their new condition in life. The lowered ring dangled near the center of the hall, in the space between the tables. Bina was dragged to the ring and her bound wrists tied over her head to it. She was tied in such a way that her heels were slightly off the floor. She was beautiful then, her legs extended, her heels slightly lifted from the floor, her back straight, her stomach flat, her small breasts arched, the entire line of her slim, lovely body lifted by her upraised wrists, helpless under the duress of the thongs and ring, tied in place, displayed as stake.
A table was brought and placed near the ring. Too, a board and pieces were brought. Bina looked down upon it with a lack of understanding. Once or twice, long ago when she had been haughty and cruel, before she had come to learn her slavery properly, the player would have been willing to teach her the moves of the game but after she had come into his use, his attitude towards her had significantly changed. He was then no longer interested in trying to please her. It had then been up to her to try and please him, and perfectly. Their relationship had completely changed. She was then to him only as slave to master. It was perhaps just as well. Bina did not have the sort of intellect that lent itself naturally to the game, nor the patience for it.
Her intelligence, which was considerable, tended to find its most natural statement in a different domain, in the modalities of the sensuous. Indeed, she had proved herself extremely gifted in matters of sexuality and love. Clearly the collar belonged on her neck. Perhaps it was just as well that the player had not tried.
to force her to become a player, an activity for which she was not naturally suited, and in which she would have, at best, after years of work, achieved only a hard-won and mediocre success, but had instead forced her to become that for which she was most deeply suited and that which, ultimately, she was and wished to be, a profoundly marvelous female. At any rate, whatever might be the truth and falsity in such matters, poor Bina would not now be permitted to so much as touch the pieces of the game. She was a slave. She looked down at the board without understanding, but with misery. On it her ownership would be decided.
Her placement, standing, near the board, of course, was not a mistake. IT is thought amusing to place the slave in this position. The informed slave, perhaps once a free woman who has some comprehension of the game, may thus observe fearfully the careful processes that will determine her disposition; and even the uninformed slave, such as Bina, who in her fearful, agonized observation of the board may understand next to nothing, not even being certain often who is winning, may sense such things as the shifting tides of battle and the removals of pieces from the board; in both cases, of course, the reactions of the slaves, tied as they are, are available for the delectation of the crowd. The major reason, however, for tying the slaves in this position is doubtless that the game's stakes and their value, so prominently displayed, may be properly considered and appreciated.
The player and Temenides, of Cos, came to the board. "You may surrender the woman, and withdraw," said Temenides.
"Temenides is generous," said the player.
Temenides nodded, and then he said, "Cut down the woman, and take her to my place at the table."
"No," said the player.
"No? asked Temenides, startled.
"Let the pieces be put in place," said the player.
"You are a fool," said Temenides. "You will pay dearly for your folly."
The pieces, with the exception of the Home Stones, were marshaled on the board. They were tall, and of weighted, painted wood. The two Home Stones cannot be placed on the board before the second move, nor later than the tenth.
"Who will move first?" asked the player.
"You may move first," said Temenides.
"No," said Belnar, Ubar of Brundisium.
"Come now, Ubar," said Temenides. "Let the fool extend the game, if he can, by two or three moves."
"He of Cos is our guest," said Belnar. "He will move first."
"Spearmen might be chosen," said a man.
"Yes," said another.
There are many ways in which this can be done. If the pieces are small enough a red spearman can be held in one hand and a yellow spearman in the other. He not holding the spearmen then guesses a hand. If the guesser guesses the hand in which the yellow spearman is held, he moves first. If he guesses the hand in which the red spearman is held he moves second. Yellow, of course, moves first, red, second. Another common way of doing this is to place the two pieces behind a cloth or board, or to wrap them in two opaque clothes, the guessing proceeding similarly.
"I will conceal the pieces," volunteered Boots Tarsk-Bit, helpfully.
"No," said the player.
"I will hold them," said Belnar.
"Ubar," conceded Temenides.
Belnar then, disdaining subterfuge, picked up two yellow spearmen. There were gasps in the audience. Bina moaned, in her ropes. Even she knew this much, that her champion was to be categorically denied the privilege of the initial move, with its weight and influence in determining the nature of the game. "Choose," said Belnar, to Temenides. Temenides shrugged. "Choose," said Belnar, to Temenides. Temenides, angrily, pointed to Belnar's right hand.
Belnar, grinning, lifted up the yellow spearman in his right hand, showing it to the crowd. Then he put the pieces down.
"You have won the guess," observed the player. "Congratulations."
"I was willing to show you mercy, if only to protect my honor," said Temenides. "But now I shall destroy you, swiftly and brutally."
"I, on the other hand, will take my time with you," said the player.
"Arrogant sleen!" cried Temenides. "Recall my conditions, and intentions!"
"I do," said the player.
"The mountebank grows tiresome," said Belnar. "Let a vat of tharlarion oil, suitable for the immersion of a human being, be prepared."
"Yes, Ubar," said a soldier.
"With stout neck ropes," said Belnar.
"Yes, Ubar," said the man, turning about, to leave the hall. The purpose of the neck ropes, stretched form holes drilled near the top of the vat, is to hold the victim, whose hands are usually bound behind him, in place, preventing him not only from attempting to leave the vat but also from trying to drown himself. The oil is heated slowly.
"Play," said Belnar, turning to the player and Temenides.
"I beg you once more, Ubar," said Temenides, "not to perpetrate this farce."
"Play," called men, standing about. Bina moaned.
"Play," said Belnar.
"Ubar's Spearman to Ubar Five," said Temenides, angrily.
A man made the move.
"Ubara's Rider of the High Tharlarion to Ubara's Builder Three," said the player.
"Have you ever played before?" asked Temenides.
"Occasionally," said the player.
"Do you understand the moves of the pieces?" asked Temenides.
"Somewhat," said the player.
"That is an absurd move," said Temenides.
"I believe it is a legal move," said the player.
"I have never seen anything like it," said Temenides. "It violates all the orthodox principles of opening play."
"Orthodoxy is not invariably equivalent to soundness," said the player. "Your great master, Centius of Cos, should have taught you that. Does it not blossom from the root of heresy? Is it not true that today's orthodoxy is commonly little more than yesterday's heresy triumphant?"
"You are mad," said Temenides.
"Similarly," said the player, "the more orthodox your play the more predictable it will be, and thus the more easily exploited."
"Sleen!" hissed Temenides.
The player's move brought Temenides' Ubar's Spearman under immediate attack by the player's Ubara's Initiate. This might lure Temenides into wasting a move, advancing the Spearman again, perhaps overextending his position, or even, perhaps, defending prematurely. Still, I did not think I would have made the move.
"To be sure, if I respected you more highly," said the player, "I might have selected a different opening move."
"Sleen! Urt!" said Temenides.
"It is your move?" asked a man of the player.
"Yes," said the player.
The man moved the piece.
"Thank you," said the player.
"I think this fellow may not be such a fool as we thought," said Belnar.
"Nonsense," said Temenides, angrily. "He is a mountebank, a bumpkin!"
"It is warm in here," said the player. He casually opened the light, dark robe he wore. Beneath it, as I had suspected, was the robe of the players, the red-and-yellow-checked robe that marked those of that caste. I think it must have been years since he had worn it openly. There were cries of astonishment. Bina looked at him, startled, her hands twisting in the cruel thongs that confined them.
"He is of the players," gasped a man.
"I had suspected it," said Belnar. "He did not seem truly insane."
"It matters not," said Temenides. "I hold a high board in Cos. I shall destroy him. It means only that the game may be somewhat more interesting than I had originally anticipated."
"Are you truly of the players?" asked the man.
"It is my caste," said the player. The hair on the back of my neck rose up. I think in that moment the player had come home to himself.
"And in what minor ranks of the players do you locate yourself?" asked Temenides, scornfully. Ranking among players, incidentally, resulting from play in selected tournaments and official matches, are kept with great exactness.
"I was a champion," said the player.
"And of what small town, or village?" inquired Temenides, scornfully.
"Of Ar," said the player.
"Ar!" cried Temenides. "Ar!" cried others.
"Perhaps you have heard of it," said the player.
"Who are you?" whispered Temenides, fearfully.
The player reached to the mask, that dark hood, which he wore. He suddenly tore it from his head. Bina closed her eyes, wincing. Many were the cries of astonishment in the hall, from free men and slaves alike. Bina opened her eyes. She cried out, startled, wonderingly. NO longer did the player wear that dark concealing hood. He looked about himself, regally. His visage bore no ravages, either of the terrors of flames or of the instruments of men. ON it there was not one mark. It was a proud face, and a severe one, at this moment, and one expressive of intellect, and power and will, and incredibly handsome. "I am Scormus of Ar," he said.
"Scormus of Ar no longer exists!" cried Temenides.
"He has returned," he said.
"I cannot play this man," cried Temenides. "He is one of the finest players on Gor!"
"But the game has begun," Scormus reminded him.
"Master!" cried Bina. "Master! I love you, Master!"
"For speaking without my permission," said Scormus of Ar to the slave, "you will in the morning beg for ten lashes. If this matter should slip your mind, you will receive fifty."
"Yes, Master," she said, joyfully.
"Too, if you should speak again, before the conclusion of the game," said Scormus of Ar to her, "your throat will be cut." She looked at him, frightened, lovingly. "See to it," said Scormus to a man. "Yes, Player," said he. He drew forth a knife and went to stand near Bina, a bit behind her. HE drew her head back by the hair, gently, and lifting up her collar slightly with the edge of the knife, with a tiny scraping sound, let her feel the blade lightly, but unmistakably, against her throat, just under the steel edge of the collar. The man then removed the knife from the vicinity of her throat. He thrust it in his belt. He remained standing near her. Bina trembled. Bina was silent. If Bina spoke again before the conclusion of the game, she would be slain.
"The first move was yours," said Scormus to Temenides. "The last move will be mine."
Temenides looked in agony to Belnar for succor. "I cannot play with one such as he," he said.
"Play," said Belnar.
"Ubar!" begged Temenides.
"It is amusing," said Belnar.
"Please, Ubar," said Temenides.
Some men then, near the back of the hall, using poles, brought in a giant vat of tharlarion oil, mounted over a large, flattish, curved-edge iron plate. Fuel in the plate was then kindled.
"Ubar!" protested Temenides.
"Play," said Belnar.
I then took my way quietly from the hall. I had business elsewhere. I would have time. The player would not hurry with Temenides.