The coffle line looped up to the neck of the first girl. She was Arlene; the second was Audrey; the third was Barbara; Constance was fourth; Belinda was fifth; she who had been the Lady Rosa was sixth. They were all clad in furs. The snow blew gently about them.
I went to the rear of the coffle line and took the last girl on the line gently in my arms. I put my lips, gently to hers. They were cool, in the cold night. Yet beneath mine they yielded, as a slave's. Already had she who had been the Lady Rosa learned much. There is a difference between the kiss of the free woman and the kiss of the slave girl; the slave girl yields to her master; the difference is unmistakable. It is said that he whose lips have never touched those of a slave girl does not know, truly, what it is to hold a woman in his arms.
"What shall I call you?" I asked. "Rosita? Pepita?"
"Call me whatever you wish, Master," she said, "I am wholly yours."
I touched her thigh through the furs. "When we reach Port Kar," I told her, "I will brand you."
"Yes, Master," she said.
I went to the fourth girl on the coffle, Belinda, whom I had obtained in the complex, whom I had first enjoyed in the steel corridors of the complex, while her throat was still chained to the overhead slave track. I took her in my arms gently, and kissed her, as I had the last girl on the line.
"You are already branded," I told her.
"Brand me a thousand times," she said, "each time I will be more yours."
"One brand," I said, "is enough to make clear the slave of you."
"Yes, Master," she said. "But each time you touch me you brand me. Each time you touch me you make me more a slave. Each time you touch me I am the more yours."
"You are a slave," I said. "It would be the same for any master."
She put her head down. "Yes, Master," she said.
I pushed up her chin with my thumb. She was crying. "Hope that you will one day fall into the power of your love master," I said. "For there is in you, I sense, a superb love slave."
"Thank you, Master," she said. She pressed her lips to the back of my mittened hand.
I went to Constance, who was the fourth girl on the coffle.
I kissed her.
"You, like Belinda, are already a branded slave girl," I told her.
"Yes, Master," she said. "Master," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"You were going to sell me in Lydius," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"Are you still going to do so?" she asked. frightened.
"No," I said. "I will take you back to Port Kar," I said.
"Thank you, Master," she breathed.
"Port Kar has excellent markets," I told her.
"Will you not keep me?" she begged.
"Perhaps, for a time," I said.
"I will try so hard to be pleasing to you," she said.
"You will do so, or you will wish that you had done so," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
I looked at her.
"It is said the women of Kassau make excellent slaves," I said.
"I will show you that it is true, Master," she said.
"Properly trained, you might make an excellent gift for one of Torvaldsland," I said.
She looked at me, frightened. "We women of Kassau fear the mighty raiders," she said.
"You would look well at their feet," I said.
She shuddered.
I regarded her. Perhaps I would have her trained as an exquisite pleasure slave, trained in sensuous dance and the thousand arts of pleasure. She might then be sent, formerly of Kassau, now trained, perfumed and silked. to one of the fierce Torvaldsland rovers. Perhaps Ivar Forkbeard, my friend, might enjoy her licking at his boots. Girls make lovely gifts. I usually kept some in my house, in Port Kar, for such purposes.
But perhaps I would keep her, for a time. Or, perhaps I would put her on a block in Port Kar.
I did not know.
"I will try to please you," she said.
"In Port Kar," I said, "a girl who is not pleasing is not unoften bound hand and foot, and thrown naked, as garbage, to the urts in the canals."
"I will try to be pleasing," she smiled.
I laughed, and gently cuffed the side of her head, She kissed at my mitten.
"When I sell you," I said, "if I should sell you, I will sell you south, into a perfumed slavery."
"Thank you, Master," she said.
I was fond of Constance. Why should she herd verr and churn butter in Torvaldsland? Let her serve naked and loving, bangled, perfumed, made-up, on the multicolored tiles of some southern domicile. Let her crawl naked, collared, to the feet of a southern master.
It would be suffIcient.
But perhaps I would keep her. I did not know. I could decide that later, at my convenience.
I went to Barbara, and took her in my arms, and kissed her, gently.
"I will brand you in Port Kar," I told her.
"I await the iron with eagerness, Master," she said.
I then went to the second girl on the coffle line, Audrey. I took her in my arms and, gently, kissed her.
She clutched me. "I beg your brand," she said, hoarsely.
"Are you not the former rich girl of Earth?" I asked.
"I am a Gorean slut and a slave," she said. "I beg your brand."
She looked up at me, tears in her eyes. "All my wealth on Earth," she said, "could not buy me a collar, or a brand. Here I have nothing and yet they will be put upon me, because men please to do so."
"Yes," I said.
"Brand me," she said.
"I will," I said.
"I dare not ask your collar," she said. "After I am branded discard me or sell me, if you will. I shall always remember with joy the moment of pain in which I knew that I, though only a lowly slave, had been found worthy of your iron."
"I will keep you for a time, at least, in my collar," I said. "You are not without interest as a female slave. My men may find you amusing. And perhaps I will occasionally permit you to serve me in my quarters."
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"Then I think I will sell you," I said. "I think you will profit from knowing many masters, and many slaveries, for you are superb and exquisite slave meat."
"Thank you, Master," she said.
I went to Arlene, who led the coffle. The double line looped up to her throat from the left-hand, rear upright of the sled.
She looked up at me. I brushed the hood, fur-trimmed, back about her shoulders. How incredibly beautiful she was. There was a light snow about. Some of the snow fell in her hair. I brushed back some hair from the left side of her face.
"My thigh has not been marked," she said. "Will Master brand me, too, in Port Kar?"
"Yes," I said.
"A girl is pleased," she said.
"Truly?" I asked, holding her head between my hands.
"Yes," she said, "it is a great honor for a girl to be branded by a Warrior, and one who is a Captain."
I shrugged. I supposed, objectively, what she said was true. I was of a high caste, that of the Warriors, and was a captain. A boast among slave girls Is "My brand was put upon me by a Warrior." Another is, "I was found beautiful enough for a Warrior to brand!"