I smiled.
I, a guest in the tent, now stood to her, of course, as master. Such girls come with the price of the lodging.
"Please, Master," she wept, "take pity on me. Take pity on the miserable needs of a girl."
I threw off the furs, and motioned her to my arms. She crept into them, sobbing.
"You are kind, Master," she said.
"Do you think so?" I asked.
She looked at me, frightened.
I drew her right hand away from her body, until the slave bracelet on her left wrist was against the golden collar loop. I then doubled the chain and formed from it a slip loop, which I dropped over her head. I jerked it tight. Her wrists now, both, were held at the collar loop. She looked up at me, frightened. I put her on her back, in the cradle of my left arm. She moved her small wrists in the cuffs; she tried to move her hands; they were held, confined, at the golden loop. I then pulled away the rectangle of rep-cloth she wore and wadded it and thrust it in her mouth. She looked at me, frightened. Then I began to touch her.
4
I Reward Two Messengers, Who Have Rendered Good Service
"Will he use the Two Tarnsmen opening?" asked a man.
"I wager," said another, "he will use the Physician's Gambit."
"That would permit the Turian Defense," said another.
I felt good. I had had a splendid night's rest. I had had an excellent breakfast.
The slave I had used had been helpless and spasmodically superb. She had not been permitted to use her hands; they had been chained; her bit of a garment had been thrust in her mouth; she could not cry out; she must endure in helpless squirming silence, as a slave girl, what sensations I chose to inflict upon her body. I was pleased; I had put her through pleasures which would have made a Ubara beg for the collar. I do not think she slept all night. In the morning, red-eyed, lying at my thigh, she had piteously begged that I buy her.
The morning was cool and the air was bright and clear. It would be a good day for the match.
I had arranged to have the pretty little slave lashed and then sent to Port Kar. I think she was a good buy. She cost me only a quarter of a silver tarsk.
"On whom do you wager?" asked a man.
"On Scormus of Ar," I responded.
"I, too," he said.
I was no longer as angry as I had been that the man I had seen last night in the pavilion had escaped me. I did not expect to see him again. If I did, that would be time enough to conduct him beyond the fair's perimeter and kill him.
I was restless and eager for the gates of the amphitheater to open. Already, even in Port Kar, I had reserved a seat for the match. It had cost me two golden tarns.
I found myself in the vicinity of the palisade. Initiates moved about, and many others. They performed ceremonies and sacrifices. In one place a white, bosk heifer was being slaughtered. Incense was being burned and bells were being rung; there was singing and chanting.
Then I was among the high platforms near the palisade.
Tied by the neck to the foot of a post, one of several supporting one of the long, high platforms near the palisade. kneeling, naked, their hands tied behind them, were two slave girls. They looked at me in terror. They had spent their first night in a man's power. Their thighs were bloodied; the dark-haired girl's arm was bruised. The red hunters are not gentle with their animals.
I climbed the stairs to the platform. I would look upon the Sardar in the morning light. At this time, particularly in the spring, the sun sparkling on the snow-strewn peaks, the mountains can be quite beautiful.
I attained the height of the platform and found the view breath-taking, even more splendid than I had hoped. I stood there very quietly in the cool, sunlit morning air. It was very beautiful.
Near me, on the platform, stood the red hunter. He, too, it seemed, was struck to silence and awe.
Then, standing on the platform, he lifted his bare arms to the mountains.
"Let the herd come," he said. He had spoken in Gorean. Then he reached into a fur sack at his feet and, gently, took forth a representation of the northern tabuk, carved in blue stone. I had no idea how long it took to make such a carving. It would take many nights in the light of the sloping, oval lamps.
He put the tiny tabuk on the boards at his feet, and then again lifted his arms to the mountains. "Let the herd come," he said. "I give you this tabuk," he said. "It was mine, and it is now yours. Give us now the herd which is ours."
Then he lowered his arms and reached down and closed the sack. He left the platform.
There were other individuals, too, on the long platform. Each, I supposed, had their petition to make to Priest-Kings. I looked at the tiny tabuk left behind on the boards. It looked toward the Sardar.
Below, the red hunter freed the kneeling, tethered girls of the post. They stood. He kept them neck-linked by the rawhide rope. Their hands remained bound behind them. He then made his way from the foot of the platform. I remembered that one of the Earth girls had been rich, the dark-haired girl; the other, the blond, I supposed had been middle class, perhaps upper middle class; I did not know; at any rate, whatever they might have been, that was now behind them, a world away; social distinctions no longer divided them; social distinctions, like their clothing, had been taken away; they were now the same, identical; both, whatever they might once have been, were now only naked slaves. They followed the red hunter, their master.
I looked at the amphitheater. I could see it easily from the height of the platform.
I saw that now the Kaissa flag, with its red and yellow squares, flew from a lance on the amphitheater's rim. Flanking it, on either side, were the standards of Cos and Ar. That of Ar was on the right, for Scormus had won yellow in the draw; it had been his hand which, under the scarlet cloth, had closed upon the tiny, wooden, yellow spearman in the helmet, the possession of which determined the first move and, with it, the choice of opening.
I would win a hundred golden tarns.
The amphitheater was now open. I hurried down the stairs of the platform.
There was a great cheer in the amphitheater and men stood upon the tiers, waving their caps and shouting.
"Scormus of Ar!" they shouted. "Scormus of Ar!"
I could hear the anthem of Ar being sung now.
It was hard to see.
"He is here!" cried a man next to me.
I climbed on the tier and stood. I could now see, in the robes of the players, Scormus of Ar, the fiery, young champion of Ar. He was with a party of the men of Ar. The table with the board was set in the center of the stage, at the foot of the huge, sloping, semicircular amphitheater. It seemed small and far away.
Scormus lifted his hands to the crowd, the sleeves of his robe falling back over his arms.
He wore a cape, which was removed from him by two other players of Ar.
He threw his cap into the crowd. Men fought wildly to possess it.
He lifted again his arms to the crowd.
There was then another cheer, for Centius of Cos, with the party of Cos, had emerged upon the stage. I heard now the anthem of Cos being sung.
Centius of Cos walked to the edge of the stone stage, some five feet above the pit, and lifted his hand to the crowd. He smiled.
The amphitheater, of course, is used for more than Kaissa. It is also used for such things as the readings of poets, the presentations of choral arrangements, the staging of pageants and the performances of song dramas. Indeed, generally the great amphitheater is not used for Kaissa, and the Sardar matches are played in shallow fields, before lengthy sloping tiers, set into the sides of small hills, many matches being conducted simultaneously, a large vertical board behind each table serving to record the movements of the pieces and correspond to the current position. The movements of the pieces are chalked on the left side of the board, in order; the main portion of the board consists of a representation of the Kaissa board and young players, in apprenticeship to masters, move pieces upon it; one has thus before oneself both a record of the moves made to that point and a graphic representation of the current state of the game. The movements are chalked, too, incidentally, by the young players. The official scoring is kept by a team of three officials, at least one of which must be of the caste of players. These men sit at a table near the table of play. Games are adjudicated, when capture of Home Stone does not occur, by a team of five judges, each of which must be a member of the caste of players, and three of which must play at the level of master.