I was hard, and strong. I was Elinor Brinton. I was a slave girl, and a true slave girl, that I knew, but I was not weak. I was hard, and strong. I would enslave some man, and exploit him, and make a fool of him. I would conquer. Elinor Brinton, though only a female, and a slave, would conquer!
Now, satisfied with myself, I began to grow drowsy. For some reason my thoughts strayed back, to the time when the slaver, Soron of Ar, had passed through the pens, in the company of Targo.
"Buy me, Master," I had said to him, as I had had no choice but to do. "No," he had said.
I twisted in the straw, angrily. Then I lay still, looking up at the steel plating of the ceiling.
He had purchased no girls.
That seemed to me strange, but it was not what bothered me, as I lay there. To me he had simply said, curtly, "No."
How offended I had been.
With every other girl, as far as I knew, in our cage, and further along the tier of cages, as far as I could hear, he had either spoken with them, or dismissed them, or told them to return to their place. It was only, as far as I knew, to my "Buy me, Master" that he had said simply, "No."
He had rejected the purchase of all of us, and yet only I, as far as I knew, had been rejected in precisely that way. I t was only to my "Buy me, Master," that he had said, with such crude bluntness, "no." I did not care that he did not buy me! Indeed, I did not want him to buy me! So he would not purchase me? What was that to Elinor Brinton? She was pleased! She did not want to belong to him! But I recalled that I had seen him looking at me, afterwards. I had tossed my head and, angrily, insolently, had looked away. When I had looked again, his eyes were yet upon me, yet appraising me. I had been frightened. I had known myself helpless, held captive in the cage. I must wait there, behind bars! There had been no escape for me! Men might do with me what they pleased. I was their prisoner. I was theirs, their slave!
But after I was sold, then could I, though slave, conquer!
What could a girl do locked in a cage with other girls, some of them perhaps almost as beautiful as she?
I was a slave girl.
Very well!
I would make my master suffer, as only a woman can make a man suffer. I would humble him, and, using his needs, would bring him to his knees before me, to beg for my pleasures. I would wring from him weakness whatever I might wish to please my will!
I would conquer!
Men are beasts!
I hated them!
"Buy me, Master," I had said to Soron, the Slaver of Ar.
"No," he had said.
I think of all men, at that time, I hated Soron of Ar. How he had appraised me, as I had stood helpless, naked, behind the bars, on the straw of the slave cage, his to be seen as he wished; how he had examined me, candidly, objectively, every inch of me, Elinor Brinton, female, slave merchandise! How I hated him! How I hated men! How I hated most Soron of Ar!
I fell asleep.
I had a strange dream, turning and moaning in the straw. I dreamed that I had escaped, and that I was free, running and walking in the high grass of a Gorean Field. How pleased I was to be free!
And then suddenly I turned and, behind me, some eight or ten feet away, standing, not speaking, tall in the blue and yellow robes of the slaver, still partially hooded, the band of leather across his left eye, was Soron of Ar. I fled.
But then it seemed he was ahead of me. I turned, and ran again, back, and then to the left, and the right, but each time, as I thought myself escaped, I saw his tall figure, standing there, in the grass.
I was naked.
I ran and ran.
And then, once again, I turned.
Again, some eight to ten feet away, not speaking, he stood. We were alone, in the high grasses of the field.
"Buy me, Master," I said to him. I did not kneel.
"No," he said.
"Purchase me!" I begged. "Purchase me!"
"No," he said.
I now saw, in his hand, coiled, several slender loops of braided leather. I screamed, and turned and fled.
The leather loop suddenly dropped about me and jerked tight, pinning my arms to my sides.
I screamed.
"Be silent," cried Lana, shaking me, in the straw. "Be silent!"
I awakened, crying out. Then I saw Lana, and the straw, and the lantern on its peg on the other side of the bars, on the wall across the corridor. Ute had risen to her hands and knees, and Inge was on one elbow. Both were looking at me. Then they lay down again, sleepily, in the straw.
I reached to Lana. I was terrified. "Lana," I begged.
"Go to sleep," said Lana, and she lay down in the straw.
I crawled to Ute. "Ute," I begged. "Please hold me, Ute."
"Go to sleep," said Ute.
"Please, please!" I begged.
Ute gave me a kiss, and put her arm about my shoulder. I pressed my head against her shoulder.
"Oh, Ute!" I wept.
"It is only a dream," said Ute. "We will sit up for a time, and then we will go to sleep."
After a time, we lay down, side by side, and I, holding to Ute's hand, kissing it, fell asleep.
12 I Gather Berries
How good it was to be out of the slave wagon!
Standing in the grass, in the sunlight, I stretched, and laughed.
I wore my new camisk. I was much pleased.
I had sewn it in the wagon, the first day out of Ko-ro-ba. My old camisk, long ago, had been burned near the compound of Targo.
I suppose girls of Earth might find the camisk a shameful, scandalous garment, but I was much pleased to have it. We had not been permitted camisks in the pens of Ko-ro-ba. In the stinking straw they might have been soiled. Also, it is thought by slavers that it is, upon occasion, good for a girl to find herself naked and behind bars. But now the dimly lit cells, the steel and cement, the stomach-wrenching heat and dampness, the close, foul air, the soiled straw, the stink, the crowding, the heavy bars, were behind us. Sometimes free women fall desperately ill when brought to the pens. Inge and I had vomited for more than an hour after we had been forced into the pens, and locked in our cells. But now the pens were behind us.
I stretched again.
It was a day in the early summer, the second day of En'Var. In the chronology of Ar, that city for which we were bound, it was said to be the year 10,121. I could feel the grass at my calves, the sun on my face and arms and legs, the warm, fresh, root-filled earth beneath my bare feet.
I was happy. I lifted my face to the sun and closed my eyes, letting its warmth and light bathe my face and closed eyes.
Elinor Brinton, the rich girl of Earth, was happy.
I felt the pull of the strap on my throat, and opened my eyes. By a long, leather strap, some ten feet in length, I was fastened by the neck to Ute. We were picking berries.
Elinor Brinton, the Gorean slave girl, quickly bend down and, with her fingers, pulled berries from the twigs of a small bush, and put them in her leather bucket.
Ute had her back to me, and the guard, too. He, drowsy, was leaning on his spear.
We were perhaps a pasang from the caravan. I, by standing on my tip toes in the grass, on the low hill on which we were gathering berries, could see the squarish tops of the wagons, with their blue and yellow canvas coverings. We were nine days out of Ko-ro-ba.
It would be weeks before we could reach Ar, where we would be sold. I was pleased with the summer's day, and the breezes.
Surreptitiously, I moved, picking berries here and there, closer to Ute. She was not facing me, nor was the guard.
My hand darted into her leather bucket and seized a handful of berries, and quickly put them in my own. Neither she nor the guard noticed. Ute and the guard were stupid.
I slipped one of the berries into my mouth, taking care that no juices showed on my lips or face.
How clever I was.
How good it was to have the stench of the pens behind us!