"My thanks, lads!" I said. "You have been very helpful!"
I then led the girl from the vicinity of the herd, to a place I had picked out, in the shelter of some trees, near a small stream.
I had glanced back once. The lads exchanged waves. Several of the women in the herd, I had noted, had seemed quite pleased to see the blonde being led away on my tether. I gathered that she was an arrogant, proud girl, and not popular with her fellows. From what I knew of her, I did not find this surprising.
"Here we are," I said, entering among the trees.
In a moment I had tied her tether about a branch. I looked about myself.
A parfleche, containing some food, hung in one of the branches. I had placed it there earlier. With it, too, I had placed a large hide, rolled. That hide I now unrolled and spread, carefully, on the grass. The small hide, that in which the quirt had been wrapped, I dropped to one side. "That hide," I said, indicating the smaller hide, "is about the size of a Tahari submission mat."
I looked at the girl.
"You may kneel," I said.
She knelt, her tether looping gracefully up to the branch about which I had fastened it.
"I see that you speak Gorean," I said. That pleased me for it was much easier for me than the complexities of Kaiila. She did not respond.
"Spread your knees, widely," I said.
She did so.
I regarded her. In this place, until sundown, she was mine.
"In the herd," I said, "you attempted to conceal yourself from me."
She looked away, angrily.
"You seem very quiet," I said. "Perhaps your tongue has been removed, or slit, for insolence." I went to her and held her head back, my hand in her hair. "Open your mouth," I said. She did so. "No," I said. "That is not the case."
She made an angry noise.
"At least you are capable of sound," I said.
She tossed her head.
I then walked about her. "Your curves," I said, "suggest that you do not need to be a block of ice. They suggest that you are capable of responding as a hormonally normal woman. I see that you are not branded."
I then crouched before her and touched the side of her neck. She pulled away, angrily.
This gesture displeased me. The slave must welcome the touch of a man. Indeed, she must even beg for it.
Angrily I drew the quirt from my belt. She eyed it, fearfully. She shook her head. She uttered tiny, protesting, begging noises. She lifted her head, turning her head so that the side of her neck faced me, that I might touch it, if it pleased me.
"Ah," I said, "of course. You are a herd girl. You may not use human speech without permission." I had taken it for granted, mistakenly, as it had turned out, that the prohibition against human speech imposed on the herd girl would cease to obtain when, say, as in the present context, she had clearly been removed from the vicinity of the herd. I understood now that was not the case. This made sense, of course. One would not expect human speech from a she-kaiila, for example, even if she were not in her herd. Too, I now had a much clearer notion of the effectiveness of the discipline under which the red masters kept their white beauties.
She nodded her head, vigorously.
"i wonder if I should give you permission to use human speech," I mused. "Perhaps, rather, I should feed, train and use you as a mere curvaceous brute, not bothering to complicate our relationship by according you human speech."
She made piteous noises.
"It has been a long time since you were permitted to speak, hasn't it?" I said.
She nodded.
"Do you wish to be permitted to speak?" I asked.
She nodded, anxiously.
"Do you beg it?" I asked.
She nodded, desperately.
"Very well," I said. "You may speak." I usually permitted my slaves to speak. Sometimes, however, when it pleased me, I had them serve me mutely, as only delicious beasts. Only one or two slaves had I never permitted to speak in my presence, and those I had, later, sold off.
"That is good," she said, "to be able to speak!"
"You may thank me," I informed her.
"I do not wish to do so," she said.
"The permission accorded," I said, "may as readily be withdrawn."
"Thank you," she said. It pleased me to obtain this small amount of courtesy, this conciliatory token, from this woman.
"Thank you-what?" I asked.
"You are a slave!" she said. "You wear a collar!"
"Thank you-what?" I asked.
She was silent.
"Are you familiar with the quirt?" I asked.
"Thank you, Master," she said, quickly. "Yes, Master!"
"I see you have felt it," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Do you know what you are doing here?" I asked.
"You are going to use me," she said, "one or more times. Then you will return me to the herd. I am ready. Let us get on with it."
I regarded her.
"I do not wish to be quirted," she said.
"Why a moment ago, did you withdraw from my touch?" I asked.
"I found it irritating," she said. I saw her body, as she said this, tighten, and draw back. It was very different from the normal body of a slave, which seems so warm and soft, so vital and alive, so eager to be touched, caressed and held. I saw that she was a rigid, unhappy woman.
"You are not branded," I said.
"No," she said.
"Are you from the Waniyanpi compound?" I asked. Teh Waniyanpi, slaves of red savages, lived in tiny, isolated agricultral communities. They supplied their masters with corn and vegetables. They subscribed to a unisex ethos.
"No," she said.
"How did you come to the Isanna?" I asked.
"You do not need to know anything about me, to have me," she said.
"Speak, Slave," I said. I touched the quirt to the palm of my left hand.
"Yes, Master," she said quickly. "I was once a woman of Ar."
Her accent, soft and liquid, had suggested this to me.
"I was of the merchants. I formed a company to trade along the Ihanke. I hired five men. I regarded the red savages as ignorant barbarians. I sent my men to nearby trading points, opened by the Dust Legs to any white traders. I furnished them with inferior trade goods, which they were to misrepresent to the savages. I would become rich in hides and horn. Imagine my surprise when, standing on the front porch of my small trading post, I saw my five men, afoot, bound and gagged, each dragging a travois, returning from the Ihanke. At the same time I fet myself seized from behind by red savages, Dust Legs. I was stripped and bound. I was shown the materials on the travois. They were the inferior trade goods I had sent to the trading points, being returned. One item, however, on one of the travois was not mine. It was a fine kailiauk robe. One of the Dust Legs showed it to me, and then pointed to it, and then to me, and then threw it on the porch of the trading post. It was their payment for me. I was then carried into the Barrens. I have been a slave of red savages ever since."
"At least you were properly paid for," I said.
"Yes," she said, angrily.
"How did you come to the Isanna?" I asked.
"The Dust Legs traded me to the Sleen," she said, "and the Sleen traded me to the Yellow Knives."
"It seems that no one was eager to keep you," I said.
"Perhaps not," she said.
"Waht did you bring?" I asked.
"The Sleen got me for two knives," she said, "and the Yellow Knives had be for a mirror."
"The Dust Legs," I said, "apparently originally conjectured that you would be worth a hide. You then went for two knives, and then a mirror."
"Yes," she said, bitterly.
"YOu have not failed to note, I suppose," I said, "that you have seemed to undergo a certain decreasing in value."
"No," she said, angrily, "I have not failed to note that."
"How did you finally come to the Isanna?" I asked.