"Yes," I said.
"Touch me again," she begged.
"As a free woman?" I asked.
"No," she said, with her left hand moving the chain on her collar, which lay partly across her body, to her left, "as a slave."
"Do you beg it?" I asked.
"Yes," she said.
"Yes, what?" I asked.
"Yes-Master," she said.
"Master," she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
"What time do you think it is?" she asked.
"I think it must be about the second Ahn," I said. The lantern had burned out. We were in the darkness.
"Let your girl please you again," she begged. "Oh!" she cried, delighted.
"Very well," I said. Then suddenly I seized her.
"Aiii!" she suddenly cried.
"So soon?" I marveled. She shuddered in my arms. Then I realized she had been lying heated at my side, awaiting my least touch.
"Ho, there!" I heard. "Do not move!"
We sprang apart.
"Do not move!" said the voice. A lantern, unshuttered, was lifted. We were in the pool of its light, lying in the straw. The girl gasped, and drew her legs up, tightly, under her. "A pretty one," said a voice. I tensed. "Do not move," warned another voice. I could see, dimly, that there were some five men a few feet from us. Three held drawn crossbows. The quarrels were trained on me.
"Are you a brigand?" asked a voice.
"No," I said. "You then, too," I asked, "are not brigands?"
"Call Miles," said a voice. One of the men left the barn. When he left, through the large door, I could see that it was still dark out. I saw the light of the Gorean moons on the earth outside. The stars were still bright in the sky.
"You, then, are not brigands?" I asked.
"No," said the man.
"Are you guardsmen then?" I asked. I did not think they were guardsmen. Too, I did not think guardsmen would be likely to arrive before morning. Too, many estates in the area may have been struck by the brigands.
"No," said the man.
A tall figure then entered the barn. With him there were some five men, two with lanterns. One of the men was he who had gone to fetch another man, he called Miles. This Miles, I assumed, was the tall man. He was, too, I assumed, their leader.
"These are the only two upon the estate," said one of the men. "Even the tharlarion were turned loose and scattered"
"The brigands were cruel, and thorough," said another.
Two more lanterns were lifted, and unshuttered, well exposing the girl and me in the straw. I blinked against the light. I could not well see the features of the tall man. He carried a drawn sword in one hand, and, in the other, his left, a dangling set of light slave chains, suitable for a female.
"Who are you?" asked the man.
"I am Jason," I said.
"The fighting slave?" he asked.
"I was freed," I said.
The tall man's gaze wandered to the girl beside me, the chain depending from her collar. His gaze lingered upon her examining her beauty casually. She shrank back. "Does she not know she is in the presence of free men?" he asked.
"Position, Slut!" I snapped to the girl.
Swiftly the Lady Florence, frightened, knelt in the straw. She knelt back on her heels, her back straight, her head up, her hands on her thighs. She knelt in the position of the house slave. I looked at her sternly. Swiftly she spread her knees. She knelt now in the position of the pleasure slave, the slave of interest to men.
"Lift your chin, Jason," said the man. "Bring a lantern closer," he said, to one of his fellows.
I did as he commanded.
"Indeed," said the man. "Your throat no longer wears a collar."
"The Mistress freed me," I said, "even before the brigands departed from the estates."
"I wonder if that is true," said the man.
"It is," I said. "Had I been a slave, interested in flight, surely I would not have dallied upon the estates."
"It is true," said one of the men. "He is known here, and in this area."
"You fought well today, Jason," said the man. "You cost me many tarsk disks."
"You are Miles of Vonda, are you not?" I asked.
"Yes," said the man.
"He cost me twenty copper tarsks," said another man.
"And me fifteen," said another.
"It was a splendid fight," said another man, admiringly.
"Yes," agreed another.
"Thank you," I said. I now felt somewhat relieved. I did not feel these men were motivated by any particularly hostile intent. If I watched my step, I did not think I truly had anything to fear from them.
"Why are you here?" asked the girl.
"Your slave needs discipline," said Miles of Vonda.
I turned about and took the startled girl by the chain at her collar. Swiftly I lashed her face, back and forth, striking her twice, first with the palm of my hand, and then with the back of it. Then I threw her to her side in the straw. She looked up at me in disbelief, horrified. There was blood at her mouth. I do not think she had ever been struck by a man before. Indeed, as a Gorean free woman, it is possible that she had never been struck, truly and seriously, by anyone before.
"Position," I told her.
Then she struggled to her knees and knelt again in the position of the pleasure slave, that of a woman who is of interest to men.
"Why are you here?" I asked Miles of Vonda.
He smiled. "It is of no concern of yours," he said. "Where is she who was your Mistress?"
"I do not know," I said. The girl trembled. Miles of Vonda, of course, would not be likely to recognize her, for, hitherto, he would have seen her only in the robes of a free woman and heavily and modestly veiled. I did not think him likely to identify the lofty Lady Florence, a rich, high-born woman of Vonda, with the scantily-clad, exciting, punished girl who knelt chained as a slut beside me.
"Did she escape?" he asked.
"I think she escaped the brigands," I said.
"Where is she now?" he asked.
"Perhaps safe in Vonda, or in its vicinity," I said. "Why do you seek her?".
"These are hard times," said Miles of Vonda. "There is a breakdown of law and order."
"I see," I said. "But why, in such times, would you be searching for she who was once my Mistress?"
"Who knows what could happen to a woman in such times?" he asked. He lifted the light slave chains before me. They rustled in the palm of his hand.
"I see," I said.
"She is not here," said Miles of Vonda to his men. "We shall search elsewhere, in the vicinity, in the brush near the roads leading to Vonda." He turned again to face me. "Enjoy your slut, Jason," said he. He smiled. "You have well earned her."
"Thank you," said I, "Miles of Vonda."
The men then departed from the barn. I took the back of the girl's neck, over the collar, in one hand, and held my other hand over her mouth, that she might not speak until I was sure the men had gone. Finally, after several Elm, I removed my hands from the back of her neck and mouth.
"Did you see that?" she whispered. "He was looking for me, and he was carrying slave chains."
"Yes," I said. I smiled. Miles of Vonda had been one of several unsuccessful suitors for the hand of the proud Lady Florence of Vonda. He had not been successful in winning her to be his in Free Companionship, nor had his many competitors. The Lady Florence had held herself to be too good for men. Now, perhaps he reasoned, if she could not be enticed to kneel across from him at his table in the honorable resplendent robes of free companionship she might at least, perhaps, more appropriately, crawl to him naked, on her belly, under the whip, across the tiles of his slave quarters.
She looked at me, frightened.
"On your back, slut," I told her.
She lay back in the straw, the chain on her throat. She brushed it to one side with her hand.
"You struck me," she said.
"Yes," I said.