The door of the slave box, behind me, was opened, and swung down. At the same time I was thrust forward in the box and my ankles were seized. I was dragged backwards out of the box on my belly. Four men held me. Prodicus jammed the key into the lock on the back of my collar and, in an instant, had opened the collar, which he jerked from my throat. Almost at the same time another man closed another collar about my throat and snapped it shut. I then wore the collar of the House of Tima. I saw a woman, stern and cruel, in black leather, with leather wristlets, sign a paper. Prodicus placed the paper in his tunic. Two men lifted me and flung me to my knees on the cement flooring of the large room. The door, or gate, to the slave box was swung up and shut, the bolts thrown in place. Prodicus gestured to the carrying slaves and they set their poles again through the rings and, in moments, they, carrying the box, preceded by Prodicus, had exited through an iron door.
I felt the woman's whip under my chin. It pushed my head up.
"Greetings, Pretty Slave," she said.
"Greetings, Mistress," I said.
"I am Tima," she said. "I am Mistress here"
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
Then she turned to the men about her, strong fellows, fit for keeping order in slave pens.
"Whip him," she said. "Then clean and groom him. Then send him to my chamber."
"Yes, Lady Tima," said one of them.
I was lifted to my feet and, two men holding my arms, was dragged stumbling from her presence.
"Kneel here," said the man, indicating a position before the heavy door, of iron, in the dark corridor. "When we have left," he said, "make your presence known."
"Yes, Master," I said, miserably. I had not been in the House of Tima more than a few Elm before I had been bound at a whipping ring, suspended over my head, and, dangling, feet tethered to a second ring, well lashed. I had then been conducted to a small, low-ceilinged cell in which I was locked. I lay there, alone, miserable, I conjecture, for some Ahn. Then a man brought a pan of water and a bowl of moistened slave gruel. I was not hungry but I was ordered to eat and, kneeling, observed, did so. When I had fed to his satisfaction he made me precede him to a warm, humid chamber. In that place there were sunken baths, cisterns of water, and vessels of heating water. Too, there were strigils, towels and oils. He removed my collar and ordered me into the bath. It was uncomfortably hot but I dared not object. Gorean masters tend not to be tolerant of the feelings of slaves. An enslaved male of Earth, fool that I was, I did not even know how to take a bath. Laughing, he explained to me the use of the strigils, the rinsings and oils. Frightened though I was, I was pleased, in the lengthy process of the bath, which tends for Goreans to be a pleasant experience, and is often a social one, at the public baths, to rid myself of the stink of the pens. I had then been scented, with the colognes and perfumes thought suitable for certain types of male slaves. I was then given a white, silken tunic. "Kneel," he then said. I knelt, and again he fastened me in my collar. We left the chamber. I was then made to lead the way through the halls of the House of Tima, until we arrived at the entrance to a long, dark corridor. This entrance was protected by two guardsmen, armed with spears and swords. "Continue forward, Slave," said the man. "Yes, Master," I said. I continued to walk forward and the two guards, not speaking, fell into step behind us. The corridor was long, and branching. We walked for some Ehn. I could feel the carpeting beneath my bare feet. "Turn left," said the man. We continued to walk. I was aware of the steel locked on my neck, the silk on my body. "Turn right," he said. We continued on for another Elm. "Stop here," he said. We stood before a heavy, iron door.
"Shall we wait?" asked one of the guards.
"It will not be necessary," said the man. "This is a man from the planet Earth."
The guards nodded, understanding.
"Kneel here," said the man, indicating a position before the heavy door, of iron, in the dark corridor. "When we have left," he said, "make your presence known."
"Yes, Master," I said, miserably.
He then turned and left, followed by the two guards. They did not look back.
I knelt by the door, miserably. I lifted my hand to knock at the door, but then my hand fell. I feared to knock. I put down my head, miserable. After I had been locked in the cell, only one man, for all practical purposes, had controlled me. He had fed me, and commanded me, and had overseen my bath, my preparation for whatever was to ensue. He had taken my collar off and then, later, had made me kneel, fastening it again on me. I knew he had not been armed, but, still, I had feared and obeyed him. Free men were to me as master, as free women were to me as mistress. I was angered, now that I thought of it, that they had seen fit to send only one man to handle me. In the beginning four or five men had, rudely and cruelly, controlled me. But then I had been whipped. They had seen me under the whip, crying out, begging for mercy. They had known then, I suppose, as slavers can know such things, that no more than one man would be necessary to see to my governance. I was only a man of Earth.
Then I was frightened, for I had not yet knocked at the iron door.
I knocked lightly, frightened, at the door. I had knocked timidly. I had scarcely heard the knock myself. I put my head down, trembling.
I looked down the corridor. The man who had conducted me to this place had now disappeared, together with the guards.
He had doubtless gone about his duties, whatever they might be, and the guards had returned to their post. I could see far down the corridor.
They did not fear to leave me at the door, alone. One man had, in effect, conducted me to this place. He, and the guards, had now left. I might as well have been a woman They showed me no more respect than they might have accorded to a helpless, vulnerable slave girl. How shamed I was. Yet were they not right? I was a man of Earth. Are we not all well tamed?
The door had not yet been opened. I was afraid. I had been told to make my presence known.
I then, frightened, breathing heavily, my heart pounding is fear, again knocked at the heavy door. I hoped that no one would be within.
"Who is it?" called a woman's voice,, distracted.
"A-a slave," I stammered.
She opened the door, and looked down at me. She held some papers, long and yellow, in one hand.
"It is Jason, is it not?" she asked.
"If Mistress pleases," I said.
"It will do," she said. She regarded me. She did not even seem to notice that I was alone in the hall. In this she apparently saw nothing out of the ordinary. "I had forgotten," she said. "You were to be sent to my chamber this evening, were you not?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
"Come in," she said. "Remove your tunic and kneel by the couch. Close the door behind you."
"Yes, Mistress," I said. She was wearing golden sandals and a long, scarlet robe, with a high, ornate collar, fastened by a silver clasp.
I entered the room and shut the door behind me. I tomoved the silken tunic I had been given and folded it, placing it on the floor. I then knelt, naked and collared, near it, in the vicinity of the couch.
She knelt before a low desk, her back to me, and gave her attention to the papers which she had now placed upon it. She held a marking stick in her right hand.
"I am attending to the details of tomorrow evening's sale," she said.
"Yes, Mistress," I said.
She worked quietly, thoughtfully. Sometimes she would remove one paper from the group, and add another. Occasionally she would make a notation on one of the papers with her marking stick. Several Ehn went by. I did not disturb her. I knew she was working. She was a businesswoman, with demanding and intricate responsibilities. I wondered if any of those papers were pertinent to me. I did not dare ask, of course. I had learned that curiosity was not becoming in a Kajirus. If I were to be sold tomorrow I would find out when masters or mistresses were pleased to let me know, perhaps as late as the moment when a sales disk might be wired to my collar.
"Serve me wine, Jason," she said, distractedly. "As a slave girl," she added.