"I was taken in a girl raid by the Isanna, with two-dozen others," she said. "We were herded into the Isanna country."
I nodded. This was around Council Rock, north of the northern fork of the Kaiila River and west of the Snake River.
"But you are not kept in a private lodge," I said. "You are kept in a girl herd."
"I was tried out, and then put in the herd," she said.
"You are apparently not regarded as much of a slave," I said.
"I am beautiful," she said, squirming in her bonds, the tether, attached to the branch, above her head, on her neck. "You saw that I was marched at the stirrup of an Isanna warrior in the Isanna procession into the camp of the Isbu!"
"That is true," I said. "You were seen fit to be displayed as Isanna loot."
"Yes," she said.
"Then you were sent back to the herd," I said.
"Yes," she said, sullenly.
"Why," I asked, "did you, in our two pervious meetings, regard me with such contempt?"
She tossed her head.
"I advise you to speak, Slave," I said. I tapped the quirt in my palm.
"You are only a male slave," she spat out, suddenly. "I despise male slaves. I hold them in contempt. I am too high for them. I am too loftly for them. I am above them! Girls such as I belong to and are for free men!"
"I see," I said.
"Too," she said, "I am the property of a red master."
I nodded. I saw that she had come to know and respect red savages. From a woman who had once regarded them as dupes and ignorant barbarians she had now come, as their slave, to understand them as the redoubtable hunters and warriors they were. Astride their kaiila, lance in hand, they were the rulers of the prairies, the Ubars of the plains. In the Barrens, obviously, it is something of a distinction for a woman, particularly a lowly white woman, to belong to one.
"But you are apparently not much of a property for your master." I said.
"Oh?" she said, angrily.
"You are kept in a herd," I reminded her.
She looked away, angrily.
I freed her tether from the branch and, slipping it back under the bond coming up from her wrists, I unlooped it from her neck. I then freed her hands. I dropped the rope to the side.
"Perhaps you had better keep me bound, or put me in a leg stretcher," she said.
"That will not be necessary," I said.
She rubbed her wrists. I had perhaps bound her too tightly. But then it is important that a girl knows herself bound.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked.
"Many things," I said, "but among them I am going to improve your master's property."
She looked at me.
"Get on your hands and knees," I said.
She complied.
"See the quirt?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said.
"I will give you a moment or two to crawl to the robe which I have spread on the grass," I said. "After that, if you are anywhere else for the next Ahn, the quirt will be used on you, and liberally. And, indeed, it may, if I choose, be used on you, even on the robe."
"I understand, Master," she said.
"Go," I said.
She crawled to the robe. Crouching on it, she looked at it, and its edges. It was an island of safety for her, or possible safety. Off it, in the next Ahn, she knew she would be whipped. On it, she did not know. This was, of course, a familiar master's tactic, usually used only with new slaves, young, inexperienced girls, fearful of the sexual aspects of their slavery. They find themselves in a large room, usually empty, or rather empty, save for an imposing couch. They are then informed that they will be whipped anywhere in the room except on the couch and may, perhaps, be whipped upon it. Needless to say, the girl scurries to the couch, regards it, in effect, as a place of possible refuge, in spite of the fact that her secual expoitation and domination will clearly take place upon it, and, for the time limits set, whatever they may be, fears to leave it. Some masters, if not pleased, will force the girl from the couch, and, keeping themselves between the girl and the couch, whip her, then letting her, after a few strokes, flee back to the couch. There, in that place of possible safety she will try again, desperately, to be more pleasing. This may be the last time in months, incidentally, that the girl will be on the surface of the couch. Until her slave skills imporve her place will be on furs, or a mat, or on the bare stones or tiles, at the foot of the couch. Indeed, some masters will sleep even a superb slave at the foot of the couch. Perhaps it is too obvious to mention but a point served by this original use of the couch is to break down the new slave's fear of the couch and encourage her to see it in a favorable light, indeed, as a place of relative safety, comfort and favor. In a possibly hostile environment she desires its protection and significance. She wishes to be upon it. Later, of course, for nobler reasons, she will presumably come to view it with greater eagerness and affection. On it she will be permitted to serve her master and on it, in turn, she will come to know his touch, as a loving, yielding slave.
"Get on your left hip," I said, "your right leg extended, the palms of your hands on the robe."
"You can't kill me," she said. "I do not belong to you!"
"That is an interesting question," I said. "As I hold the beaded quirt I think I do, in this context, have such rights over you. At any rate, even if I do not, a complaint to the boys, relayed by them to your master, would surely be in order. He may then decide whether or not your least difficulty or disobedience is to be punished by death. And since you are a herd girl, I doubt that he will think twice about the matter. That is better." She had assumed the position which I had prescribed.
"Do not complain to the boys," she said. "They are cruel!"
"They are not cruel," I said. "They are only good herders."
"If I do not please you," she said, "just quirt me."
"Have no fear," I said. "If I am not pleased you will be well quirted. Then I will decide whether or not to complain to the boys."
She moaned.
"You ahve good slave curves," I said, regarding her. "You may thank me."
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"One wonders why, then, you are so valueless. You went for a hide, and then two knives, and then only a mirror. Now you are in a herd. Why are you worth so little?"
"I do not know, Master," she said.
"The boys tell me that you are a block of ice," I said.
"I cannot help it if I am unresponsive," she said. "It is my nature."
"I also gather," I said, "that you are arrogant and surly. You are thus, in various respects, a poor slave."
She tossed her head, irritably.
I struck her once, on the right thigh, with the quirt. She cried out with pain, and looked down at the welt.
"I would think twice, if I were you," I said, "before I made angry little noises or impatient gestures."
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Do you find men attractive?" I asked.
"Since I may be raped at their pleasure," she said, "what difference does it make?"
"Do you find them attractive?" I asked.
"Sometimes," she said, "they make me feel uneasy."
"What were you relations with men, prior to your enslavement?" I asked.
"Cannot you simply take me and be done with it?" she asked.
"Speak," I said.
"At one time," she said, "in spite of being a proud free woman of Ar, I felt the desire for the companionship of men."
"I understand," I said.
"I decided that I would permit them, certain ones of my careful choosing, of proper means and stations, to become acquainted with me, and that I might then, from among these, favor certain ones with the dignity and honor of my friendship. Then, perhaps, in time, if I felt so inclined, I might, if he were thoroughly pleasing and wholly suitable, consider acceding to the please of one to enter into companionship with me."
"And how did matters proceed?" I asked.