They were shameless!
"Those men," said Ena, "are Raf and Pron, huntsmen of Treve, though they range widely in their huntings, even to the northern forests. By order of Rask of Treve they, by their skill in weapons and their mastery of the techniques and lore of the hunt, and pretending to be of Minus, a village under the hegemony of Ar, made petition and successfully so, to participate in the retinue of the great Ubar." She smiled at me. "Treve," she said, "has spies in many places." "They freed Verna," I said. "Freeing her, they escaped to a preappointed rendezvous, where Rask of Treve, with his men, met them, and brought them, and Verna, here."
"But why would they wish to free her?" I asked.
"Verna is well know on Gor, as an outlaw woman," said Ena. "When it became known that Marlenus, in his hunting, for his sport, would seek her, Rask of Treve gave order for Raf and Pron to attempt to join his retinue."
"But why?" I asked.
"That," said Ena, "Marlenus, if successful, might be deprived of his prize?" "But why?" I pressed.
"There would be glory in the capture of such a woman," said Ena, "and, surely, ignominy in her escaping."
"You mean she has been freed only that Marlenus of Ar might be deprived of his prize?"
"Of course," said Ena. "Treve and Ar are enemies." Her eyes shone, and I had little doubt where her sympathies lay. "Is it not a superb insult to Marlenus and Ar!" she breathed.
"Yes," I said, "it is."
"Too," said Ena, thrilled, "is it not audacious that my master, Rask of Treve, places his war camp, from which he may despoil the fields and caravans of Ar, within the realm of might Ar itself!"
"Yes," I whispered. I then sensed something of the points of honor and of the nature of insults which scornful men, might warriors, might exchange. I shuddered, momentarily thrilled with the boldness of my master, Rask of Treve. Then I remembered that he had contempt for women, and that I hated him! "What of the other girls, those of Verna's band?" I asked. I particularly feared that the blond girl, she who had held my leash, might be freed. I had much abused her, throwing dirt on her and poking her with a stick in her cage. I was terrified of her. If she was free I did not know what she might do to me. "The others remain caged prizes in the retinue of Marlenus," said Ena. "Oh," I said. I was much relieved. I observed Inge filling the paga goblet of one of the huntsmen. She knelt closer to him than she needed to. Her lips were parted. Her eyes shone. Her hands, slightly, shook on the paga bottle. Rena knelt to one side. She watched her huntsman, gnawing the meat from a great bone. I could see that she was eager to leap up to serve him, should he but speak to her.
What shameless, wanton slave girls they were!
"Rask of Treve hates Marlenus of Ar," said Ena.
I nodded.
"Have you see the dark-haired girl who sometimes tends his tent?" she asked. "Yes," I said. I had indeed seen her. She was an incredibly beautiful slave female. She was even more beautiful than Ena, who was one of the most beautiful female slaves I had ever seen. Her hair was glossy and black, and her master had had her cut it at the small of her back. her features, and body, were breath-takingly beautiful. She had an exciting mouth and lips. She was a stunningly figured, green-eyed, olive-skinned slave girl. She would bring a high price on the market. Always she wore only the brief garment of scarlet, diaphanous silk. Always, about her left ankle, fastened, were two golden bangles.
"Do you know who she is?" asked Ena, smiling.
"No," I said. "Who is she?"
Ena smiled.
"El-in-or!" snapped Ute. "Get to the shed!"
I leaped up and, frightened, angry, fled through the camp to be locked in the shed.
I would soon learn who the beautiful dark-haired girl was.
Verna had her own tent in the camp of Rask of Treve, though often, when he was in camp, she dined with him. Sometimes, too, she would range beyond the palisade, beyond which other girls were not permitted, to walk and hunt. It was not infrequently that Verna requested that it be I who would tend her tent, and prepare her food, and serve her. I, collared, did so, fearfully. But she was not more cruel to me than to any other female slave assigned such servile duties. I effaced myself as much as possible, serving her as unobtrusively and anonymously as I could. She tended to ignore me, as one would a female work slave. I made certain I pleased her in all respects, for I greatly feared her.
Then, one night, on a feast night, for Rask had returned with new fair prisoners, Verna feasted in his own tent, and I, to my amazement, was ordered to serve them. Other girls had prepared the repast, which, for the war camp, was sumptuous indeed, containing even oysters from the delta of the Vosk, a portion of the plunder of a tarn caravan of Ar, such delicacies having been intended for the very table of Marlenus, the Ubar of that great city itself. I served the food, and poured the wines, and kept their goblets filled, remaining as much in the background as possible.
They talked of hunting, and war, and of the northern forests, as though I was not there.
Sometimes Verna would say, "Drink," and I would pour wine into her goblet, saying, "Yes, Mistress," and sometimes Rask of Treve would command me, saying "Drink," and I would then, similarly, serve him, saying "Yes, Master." Verna sat cross-legged, like a man. I knelt, as a serving slave.
She threw me one of the oysters.
"Eat, Slave," she said.
I ate.
In so doing this, she, the guest, had signified that I might now feed. It is a not uncommon Gorean courtesy, in such situations, to permit the guest to grant the feeding permission to the slaves present.
"Thank you, Mistress," I said.
Rask of Treve then threw me a piece of meat, that I might satisfy my hunger, for I had not been fed.
With my hands I ate the meat, a collared slave, while the free persons drank, and conversed.
Rask of Treve snapped his fingers. "Approach me, El-in-or," he said. I bolted down the meat. I approached him, across the low table behind which he sat on the rugs. (Pg. 302) He extended his goblet to me. "Drink," he said, offering me the cup. I looked at the rim of the cup. I shook with terror. "A slave girl dares not touch with her lips the rim of that cup which has been touched with the lips of her master," I whispered.
"Excellent," said Verna.
"She was trained in the pens of Ko-ro-ba," said Rask of Treve.
He then, from his own cup, poured some wine into a small bowl, which he handed to me.
"Thank You, Master," I breathed.
With his head back Rask of Treve gestured me to one side, and I went and knelt to one side, as I had before.
I put back my head and drank the wine. It was Ka-la-na wine. I felt it almost immediately.
"I have a surprise for you," Rask was telling Verna.
"Oh?" she asked.
I put down the wine cup, to one side.
Rask of Treve looked at me. He was in an expansive mood. He cut a large slice of juicy bosk meat. My mouth watered. He smiled, and then he threw it to me. I caught it, happily, and with two hands, began to feed on it.
"What is the surprise?" asked Verna.
Rask clapped his hands once, and four musicians, who had been waiting outside, entered the tent. And took a place to one side. Two had small drums, one a flute, the other a stringed instrument.
Rask clapped his hands twice, sharply. And the black-haired, green-eyed, olive-skinned slave girl stood before him. "Put her in slave bells," said Rask, to one of the musicians. The musician fastened leather cuffs, mounted each with three rows of bells, on her wrists and ankles.
"Please, Master," begged the girl, "not before a woman." She referred to Verna. I was only a slave.
Rask of Treve threw the girl one of the oysters, from a silver plate on the low, wooden table.