I pressed myself to him.
He regarded them. Then he said to me, "I am of Treve. Do not stain my honor." By the hair I was dragged from the presence of Rask of Treve, and his head, again, fell forward on his chest.
The door closed.
"In time," said the small man, "you will receive a packet of poison." I nodded, numbly. Rask of Treve must not die! He must not die!
"You will be placed in the house of Bosk, a merchant of Port Kar," he said. "You will be placed in the kitchen of that house, and you will be used to serve his table."
"I can't," I wept. "I cannot kill!"
"Then Rask of Treve dies," said the small man. Haakon of Skjern laughed. The small man held up a tiny packet. "This," he said, "is the poison, a powder prepared from the venom of the ost."
I shuddered. Death by ost venom is among the most hideous of deaths. I wondered how it was that they could so hate this man, he called Bosk of Port Kar.
"You will comply?" asked the small man.
I nodded my head.
"Wine, El-in-or!" cried Publius, master of the kitchen of Bosk of Port Kar. "Take wine to the table!"
Numbly, shaking, I took the vessel of wine. I went to the door of the kitchen, and went through the hallway, and stopped before the back entrance to the hall. It had not been as hard as I had feared to be entered into the house. I was sold, for fifteen pieces of gold, to the house of Samos, a slaver of Port Kar. Samos himself was abroad upon Thassa, in ventures of piracy and enslavement, and it was through a subordinate that I was purchased. Publius, the kitchen master of the house of Bosk, drunken, in a dicing match, in a paga tavern of Port Kar, had learned that there was an interesting girl, newly brought to the house of Samos, one who had been trained in the pens of Ko-ro-ba, one who wore the brand of Treve. It was also said that she was beautiful. Publius, who would, upon occasion, need new girls in the kitchen, as others were given away or sold, was intrigued. I suspect he seldom had the opportunity to chain trained pleasure slaves to the wall of his kitchen after the completion of the evening's work.
The subordinate, though in the absence of Samos, thinking to please him, sold me to Publius for only fifteen pieces of gold, which price he had paid. I was thus, in effect, in part, a gift to the house of Bosk from the house of Samos. The house of Bosk and the house of Samos, it seemed, stood on good terms, the one with the other. Both Samos and Bosk, it seems, were members of the Council of Captains, the sovereign power in Port Kar.
I liked the house of Bosk, which was much fortified, spacious and clean. I was not badly treated, though I was forced to do my work perfectly. My master, Bosk, a large man, very strong, did not use me. His woman was the striking, beautiful Telima, from the marshes, a true Gorean beauty, before whom I felt myself only an Earth woman and a slave. There were other beauties in the house; slender, dark-haired Midice, the woman of a captain, Tab; large, blond-haired Thura, the woman of the great peasant, master of the bow, Thurnock; and short, dark-eyed Ula, woman of silent, strong Clitus, once a fisherman of the isle of Cos. Too, there was a slender, strong youth, a seaman, whose name was Henrius, said to be a master of the sword. There was too a free dancing girl, a beauty with high cheekbones, named Sandra, who much pleased herself with the men of Bosk, and earned much moneys in the doing of it. She had been taught to read by another girl, also free, of the Scribes, a thin, brilliant girl, whose name was Luma, who handled much of the intricate business of the great house. And, too, of course, there were many lovely slaves. I was somewhat uneasy. Only too obviously Bosk had an eye for beauty. But he did not use me. His affections, and his touch, were for Telima. How superb she must have been, to have held him among such girls. A Gorean girl, who has a first-rate man, and wishes to keep him, fights for him. There are generally girls, collared girls, only too eager to take her place.
"Hurry with the wine!" cried Publius, from the kitchen, looking after me. Then he disappeared in the kitchen.
I took the packet of poison from my rep-cloth kitchen tunic, and dissolved it in the wine. I had been told there was enough there to bring a hundred men to an excruciating death. I swirled the wine, and discarded the packet.
It was ready.
"Wine!" I heard from the hall.
I hurried forward, running toward the table. I would serve none but Bosk, he first and he alone. I did not wish more blood on my head.
I stopped halfway to the table. The feasters were watching me.
Rask of Treve must live!
I had recalled how Haakon of Skjern had laughed over his captive.
I asked myself, would he, Haakon, such a mortal enemy, release Rask of Treve, even if I keep my bargain.
I feared he would not, and yet what choice had I. I must trust them. I had no choice.
I did not wish to poison anyone. I knew nothing of such work. I had not been a good person, but I was not a murderess. Yet I must kill.
I remembered, briefly, irrelevantly, that my mother had once poisoned my small dog, which had ruined one of her slippers. I had loved that tiny animal, which had played with me, and had given me the affection, the love, which my parents had denied me, or had been too busy to bestow. It had died in the basement, in the darkness behind the furnace, where it had fled, howling and whimpering, biting at me when I, a hysterical, weeping child, had tried to touch it and hold it. Tears sprang to my eyes.
"Elinor," said Bosk, at the head of the table. "I want wine. He was one of the few men, or women, on Gor who spoke my name as it had been spoken on Earth. I slowly approached him.
"Wine!" called Thurnock.
I did not go to the peasant.
"Wine!" cried Tab, the captain.
I did not go to him.
I went to Bosk, of Port Kar. I would pour the wine. Then I would be seized, and, doubtless by nightfall, tortured and impaled.
He held forth the goblet. The eyes of Telima were upon me. I could not look her in the eyes.
I poured the wine.
"I am of Treve," Rask of Treve had told me, in the warehouse, where he stood bound to the wall. "Do not stain my honor."
I hated then men, and their wars, and their cruelties, and their frivolous honors. It was we, their women, who suffered in their madness. No, Rask of Treve would not purchase his life for the price I had agreed to pay, but the decision was not his, but mine, mine and I loved him, and could not let him die! "Do not stain my honor, he had said.
Bosk of Port Kar lifted the cup to his lips. I put forth my hand. "Do not drink it, Master," I said. "It is poisoned."
I put my head down in my hands. There were shouts, of fury, of anger, at the table, goblets spilled and men and women leaped to their feet.
I felt Thurnock, the peasant, with his great belt, pinning my arms to my sides and I was thrown to the tiles of the great hall.
"Torture her!" I heard cry.
"Impalement! I heard cry.
The door to the hall burst open, and in, wild-eyed, ran a man with short-cropped, white hair, with earrings.
"It is Samos!" I heard cry.
"I have just made landfall," he cried. "I have learned that a woman, without my knowledge, has been entered into this house. Beware!"
He saw me, my arms belted to my sides, kneeling on the tiles.
Publius ran forward, the kitchen master. His face was white. He held a drawn sword.
Bosk poured the wine forth on the table, slowly. The vessel of wine I had dropped, and its contents now trickled among the tiles.
"Return to your feast," said Bosk to the table. Then he said, "Tab, Thurnock, Clitus, Henrius, Samos, I would be pleased it you would join me in my chambers." I saw Telima held a knife. I had little doubt she could cut my throat, and might swiftly do so. "Thurnock, unbind the slave," requested Bosk. He did so. I stood up. "Elinor," said Bosk, "we must speak." He then held his arm to Telima, that she might accompany him. I, numbly, followed them to his chambers.