I listened. The hold was dark. I seemed to hear nothing. It had been nothing. Surely it had been nothing.
I did not move. I was uneasy.
Suddenly in the darkness there was the rush of a body toward me. I stepped to the side. Steel slashed down. I heard it cut into the wood at my left almost at the same time that I turned and, in the darkness, slashing, cut at it. I knelt beside it. With my left hand I felt it. The neck, struck in the back, had been half severed.
I then rose to my feet. I stood there, in the darkness, and in the silence, my sword ready.
Then I felt soft lips press themselves against my feet. "Please do not kill me, Master," begged a woman.
I lowered my sword until the point of it was at the back of her neck.
"Please, do not kill me," she begged.
She was at my feet, on her belly, in the darkness.
"Cross your wrists," I told her, "palms facing one another, and touch your fingers to my ankle."
She did this, lying on her stomach. With her hands in this position, a girl can exert almost no leverage, and it may be determined, too, that her hands are empty. This is a simple Gorean procedure, not uncommon, for determining that a girl encountered in the darkness is both helpless and unarmed.
I reached downward and, with my left hand, closing it about her small wrists, pulled her wrists up, drawing her into a kneeling position, her hands, in my grip, held over her head. With my blade, I gently felt between her legs. Feeling the steel between her thighs, she shuddered. This pleased me, for it indicated that she was hot. I then, with the blade, felt along the outside of her thighs and belly. "Yes, Master," she said. "I am naked." I had determined that she wore no cords, or belts, from which a weapon might be suspended. I then touched the side of the blade lightly to her neck. There I felt it move against a steel collar. "Yes, Master," she said. "I am a slave."
"Who was he, he who attacked me?" I asked.
"Alfred," she said, "a man of Alcibron, captain of the _Tuka_."
"What was he doing here?" I asked.
"He was left here to kill those, not of the pirates, who might seek refuge in the hulk of the _Tuka_," she said. "He killed five," she said.
"And what were you doing here?" I asked.
"I was put here, that I might content and please him," she said, "that his duties might be made more enjoyable."
"Are you beautiful?" I asked.
"Some men have found me not displeasing to their senses," she said.
"Who is your master?" I asked.
"Alcibron, Master of the _Tuka_, was my Master," she said, "but now you are my Master, and you own me, fully."
"You sound familiar," I said. "Do I know you?"
"I was once a girl of Port Cos," she said, "one born free, but one who knew herself in her heart to be a slave. I fled Port Cos to avoid an unwanted companionship. He who desired me, too much respected me, and though I muchly loved him, I knew that he could not satisfy my slave needs. He wanted me as his companion and I wanted only to be his slave. He wanted me in veils and silk, and wished to serve me. I wanted only to be naked, and collared, and at his feet, kissing his whip.
"I confessed my needs to him and he was scandalized, and that he was scandalized shamed and mortified me. Each outraged by the other we parted.
"I then decided that I would hate men, and do without them. I would be bold and insolent with them, and make them suffer, punishing them for their rejection of my womanhood. If they could not, or would not, understand me, then I would take my vengeance on them, making them miserable! Even in my hatred, of course, I could never forget that in a corner of my heart, kneeling, there languished a love slave. Our parents, naturally, knowing nothing of what had occurred between us, pressed us to intertwine our arms and drink the wine of the companionship.
"He, furious but resigned, cognizant of his expressed intentions and earlier proposals, became convinced that his duty lay in this direction. I had little doubt that if I were but once taken into companionship by him I should be sequestered, and left untouched, that that would be my punishment for having shamed him; be would keep me as his official 'companion' but he would not so much as put his hands on me; I would be forced to endure honor and freedom; respect and dignity would be forced upon me, like chains. I would lie alone, twisting in the darkness, while he reveled elsewhere, contenting himself, in the lascivious embraces of obedient slaves, painted, bangled girls, such as might be purchased in any slut market. How I would envy such girls their collars and the lash of his whip!
"It was thus that I fled Port Cos. I thought I did so, at the time, to make my fortune, but, as I understand it now, I did so to become enslaved. It was soon done to me. In the beginning, true to my resolves, I tried to be rebellious, but the impracticality of that was soon brought home to me. I soon learned that I was a slave. Gorean men allow women little latitude in this regard. She quickly learns she is a slave or she is slain. Yet I did not mind being a slave, truly, for it was what I was. I had known it for years, since my body had developed the contours and needs of a slave. It pleased me deeply that I had been given no choice in the matter, that my slavery, like the brand and collar, had been forced upon me. I had been given no choice but to be what I was. This pleased me. I have known many whips. I have had many masters, good and bad. My longest slavery was in Vonda, in a slaver's house, the House of Andronicus."
"I know who you are," I said.
"Master?" she asked. "Oh!" she said. "Master's grip is tight on my hands!" I was holding her hands over her head, together, she kneeling before me in the darkness. It pleased me to let her feel herself again in my grasp, helpless.
"By what name have you commonly been known, Slave?" I inquired.
"Oh!" she said. "Please, do not kill me, Master!" I had put the point of the blade I carried to her belly. I could feel her, through the steel, wince. She knew that even a slight pressure on that blade, Gorean steel, at that location and angle, could slit her open to the heat of her.
"By what name have you commonly been known, Slave?" I asked. It is sometimes useful to let a slave know that she may be easily killed.
"Lola, Master!" she said, frightened. "Lola!"
I released her hands. I sheathed my sword. "You may lick and kiss at my feet, Lola," I said.
She did so.
"Do you know who I am?" I asked.
"My Master," she said, "my Master."
"Stand, Girl," I said.
She did so.
"I am Jason," I told her, "Jason, of Victoria."
"Master!" she cried out, suddenly, tearfully. "Master!" She seized me in her arms, sobbing, pressing herself against me. I put my arms about her, permitting myself this tenderness towards her, though she was but a branded slave. "She sold me! She sold me!" she sobbed. "She took me to the wharves, while you were at work. She sold me!"
"She had no right to do so," I said.
The girl was sobbing, against me. I could feel her tears against my chest. "I was sold to a merchant from Tetrapoli," she said. "In Tetrapoli I was again sold, to an agent, who proved to be in the fee of Alcibron, one of the high captains of Ragnar Voskjard."