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before me, then I turned away.
I smelled veminium oil.
The petals of veminium, the  Desert Veminium, purplish, as opposed to the
 Thentis Veminium, bluish, which flower grows at the edge of the Tahari,
gathered in shallow baskets and carried to a still, are boiled in water. The vapor,
which boils off, is condensed into oil. This oil is used to perfume water. This
water is not drunk but is used in middle and upper-class homes to rinse the eating
hand, before and after the evening meal.
At one place, on a stone shelf, under awnings, several girls, chained naked, were
for sale, interestingly, at set prices. It was a municipal sale, under the jurisdiction
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10 Tribesmen of Gor
of the courts of Tor. One brown-skinned girl, black-eyed, no more than fifteen,
kneeling, her wrists and ankles tightly chained, looked up at me. She was being
sold to pay her father s gambling debts. I purchased her, and freed her.
 Where is your father? I asked.
 At the gaming tables of the Golden Kaiila, she wept.
I looked at her. She was comely. I looked to the discarded chains on the stone
shelf. Other girls there held out their hands to me. I looked again at the girl.
 In another year, I told her,  you will kneel again on the stone shelf, beneath the
awnings. I regarded her.  Then, I said, regarding her,  you will be too beautiful
to free.
 I must hurry home, she said,  to prepare supper for my father.
I watched her run, shamed, through the streets. She was lovely. I had little doubt
that, in time, she would wear slave bells. Even if she were not to be sold by the
magistracy of Tor I thought it not unlikely that she would fall to the noose of a
slaver.
 Buy us! Buy us, Master! cried the other girls on the shelf.
 Be slaves, I laughed to them, turning away.
They wept. I heard the lash fall among them.
Here and there in the bazaar I made purchases.
Twice I was passed by pairs of guardsmen, in white robes with red sashes and
scimitars, the police of Tor.
Not five paces behind them I saw a ragged cutpurse cut the wallet of a merchant,
dropping its contents into his hand and, bowing and whining, twist away in the
crowd. The merchant huffed away. The fellow had done it neatly. I recalled a girl
named Tina, once of Lydius, now of Port Kar. She, too, had
been an excellent thief. My own coins I kept in belt pockets, within my robes, save
for a small wallet at my side. I went about Tor now as a traveler from Turia, a
small merchant. I checked the wallet at my side. It was intact.
Some other thieves had not done so well in the bazaar. Several right hands,
severed, were nailed to a board on which salt prices were affixed.
There were no feminine hands on the board. A female thief in Tor, even on the
first offense, is immediately reduced to slavery.
I glanced behind me. For the second time I saw four men, the same four. But they
were only four.
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10 Tribesmen of Gor
I stood aside as a chain of male slaves was herded by, with spear butts. They were
bound for the brine pits of the Tahari, whence comes most of the caravan salt. I
expected that less than half of them would reach the pits. Heavy collars, with
rings, they wore about their necks. A heavy chain, running through the rings,
linked them together by the throat. Their wrists, manacled, were behind their
backs. They were naked. Men spit at them as they were herded past.
Miss Blake-Allen was no longer in my compartment. She was now in the public
pens of Tor. On the morning of the second day, in the process of my work for
Priest-Kings, I had entered the shaded offices of the municipal slave master of
Tor.
 Stand here, I told Miss Blake-Allen, indicating a place in the center of the floor,
before the desk of the slave master. She stood where I had indicated.  Remove
your slippers, I told her. She slipped from the slippers, black with silver thread.
She was now barefoot. The slave master came around to the front of his desk. He
leaned back against it, sitting on its edge.  Remove the haik, I told the girl. She
removed the garment. She stood between us, nude.
The slave master regarded her. Then he walked about her, slowly. She stood
straight, a female examined by a man. She did not look at him. The slave master
looked at me. I nodded. Her body stiffened, and she shut her eyes, as his hands,
those of a Gorean flesh appraiser, informed, sensitive, professional, proficient,
made swift assessment of the textures of her skin, varying at different points on
the body, the tensilities of her musculature, the varying softness and firmness of
her, the sweet, complex delights of her lines, the obvious exciting contours of her,
the more subtle contours, too, the curve at her hip, at her shoulder, her instep, the
back of her neck; he, too, made test, to her helpless, recoiling horror, of the latent
pleasures of her, swiftly revealing, then passing over, it noted, the promise of an
incredible responsiveness; there were tears in her eyes; how precious and
beautiful, I thought, is a woman, how unsurprising that a vital man, without
compromise; simply wishes to own such a fantastic, delicious creature, how
unsurprising that he wishes in the full and glorious heat of his blood to
overwhelm, devour, dominate and master her. On Gor, of course, men have their
will, at least with lowly slaves, such as was, against her will, the lovely,
unfortunate Miss Blake-Allen.
The slave master stepped back from the slave.
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10 Tribesmen of Gor
 Kneel, I told her. She knelt.
 Blond, said he,  apparently determined to try to remain frigid, blue-eyed, not yet
tamed, an incredible potential for helpless sexual heat, an incredible potential for
helpless slave submission, excellent. Do you wish to sell her?
 Straighten your body Slave, I told her.
Frightened, Miss Blake-Alien straightened her back, and lifted her head. She knelt
back on her heels, knees wide, hands on her thighs. It was the position of the
Pleasure Slave. I had taught her the position. It is one of the first things a good-
looking woman, fallen slave, is taught on Gor.
 Do you wish to sell her? again inquired the slave master of Tor.
I knew I would not obtain the best price from this office, for the municipal pens
usually buy cheaply and sell cheaply. They exist primarily as a service for caravan [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]