I looked to Lavinia. Still she did not move!
More than one of the women left behind was not repinning her veil, almost as though in embarrassment. How had it slipped so?
Then some of the more timid women who had not dared to approach the fellow hurried to him, one after another, to be along with him, if only for a moment. He would smile upon them, and kissed the gloved hand of one.
He was proceeding on, heading in my direction. Lavinia was now well behind him. I looked at her. Did she think she was chained to the wall there? I made a tiny, almost imperceptible gesture. She moved a bit from the wall, as though to follow behind the fellow and the others. At the same time one of the bearers of one of the palanquins approached the fellow's party and knelt, and indicated the palanquin. Lavinia quickly moved back. I was now growing impatient, but, surely, I would not want her to compete in these matters with the occupant of the palanquin, who was doubtless a wealthy free woman. the palanquin, at any rate, did not appear to be a rented one or its bearers rented slaves. It would be all I would need for Lavinia to be beaten by the bearers and the not lost somewhere in the dust of the alley.
I scuffed about for a time in the dust of the alley. The woman in the palanquin must indeed be wealthy, or well-fixed, or something. The two men with the fellow even withdrew so that he might converse with the palanquin's occupant. I saw, too, after a time, him bow his head and place to his lips the fingers of a small, gloved hand extended between the curtains of the palanquin.
This probably did not please the occupant of the other palanquin. She, incidentally, for I assumed it to be a she, from the dA©cor, and style, and closed nature, of the palanquin, had not only bearers with her, but one or two free men as well. I wondered if the bearers of these palanquins, on behalf of their mistresses, occasionally interfered with one another in the streets. I supposed it not impossible. On the other hand, things seemed relatively civilized this afternoon.
When the fellow then took to his way again this second palanquin, in a fashion I though rather reminiscent of the investigatory movements of the nine-gilled Gorean marsh shark, slowly, silently, and smoothly turned in his direction. I made an impatient gesture to Lavinia.
How helplessly distraught was the beauty!
The fellow with his attendants passed me. Briefly did out eyes meet. Hastily did they look away. In a few moments the second palanquin, too, had passed, nosing after the fellow and his small party. Lavinia, then, timidly, left the vicinity of the wall, and began to follow in the wake of the palanquin and its putative prey. As she passed me I took her by the arm and pulled her to the side. "What is wrong with you?" I said. "I await my opportunity, Master!" she said, looking not at me, but rather after the party down the street. I released her arm. To be sure, there was no real point in being angry with her. She, a mere slave, had had as yet no suitable opportunity to make her approach. I think rather my being somewhat out of temper was the result of my fear that she might bungle the matter, as simple as it was, because of some inexplicable emotional upheavals or unrests, or, perhaps, it was merely that I was anxious for the business to be successfully and expeditiously completed.
Lavinia, released, hurried away, to follow in the wake of the palanquin and its putative prey.
I looked suddenly at a fellow nearby, which opportunity he seized to remark interesting arrangements of tiles on carious nearby roofs. When he had completed these architectural inquiries he found my eyes still on him.
"Yes?" I said.
"That was a state slave," he said.
"A branded slut is a branded slut, even if she is owned by the state."
"True," he said, agreeable.
"So what is your point?" I inquired.
"It is just that it may be improper to accost them while they are on their errands."
"Do you think that at night when they are chained at their slave rings the state caresses them?" I asked.
"No," he said.
The lot of a state slave can be one of great deprivation. Indeed, I fear it often is. Certainly it is commonly regarded as an extremely unenviable slavery by most slaves. To be sure, they are occasionally made available to male slaves, guards and such. Some state slaves, of course, usually girls of unusual beauty, are used at state banquets, to serve and entertain. But even there the state not unoften utilizes trained feast slaves, rented from carious establishments or, upon certain occasions, even the girls from a Ubar's own pleasure gardens. "Thank you for your observation," I said.
"It is nothing," he said.
We looked after Lavinia, hurrying down the street.
"She is a pretty one," he said.
"Yes," I said.
I then turned about and went down the same street.
I was not really displeased. The fellow had taken Lavinia unquestioningly for a state slave. That was reassuring, and was in its way a compliment to Phoebe's skill as a seamstress, which skill she had primarily acquired following her collaring. Too, he had reminded me that some folks, in particular, guardsmen, often disapproved of interfering with such a girl in the pursuit of her duties. This policy, incidentally, makes it difficult for such slaves to obtain simple, basic female gratifications, such as being caressed in the chains of a master. It was difficult for them, for example, to enter into, arrange or conduct affairs, even on the brief dark-doorway variety. On the other hand, the policy might prove useful, from my own point of view. In virtue of it, I thought I might be able to defend Lavinia, if necessary, without calling too much attention to myself, in particular, without identifying myself as her likely master. Who knows? I might be merely a civic-minded citizen, or perhaps a fellow spoiling for a fight, or one who might find it in his interest, on a certain occasion, to seem to be such.
In a few Ehn, on Aulus, in the vicinity of Tarn Court, I saw one of the free men accompanying the palanquin hurry forward to stay the fellow with his two companions. Lavinia was about thirty to forty yards beyond the palanquin. I was about ten yards or so behind her. Stayed, the whole group awaited the arrival of the palanquin, which now approached them in a stately fashion, the bearers impressive in their lack of haste, befitting the undoubted dignity of the palanquin's occupant. In a moment or two the palanquin had been set down on its legs, in the shady side of Aulus, near a wall covered with theater posters, may of them faded, tattered, overlapping and half torn away.* Many Gorean advertisements, incidentally, notifications and such, are not, so to speak, authorized. Some of these notifications, and such, perhaps inscribed by the proprietors of certain taverns or their agents, sing the praises of various slaves. I wondered, if the fellows passing these notifications, and such, recounting, say, the charms of a certain Tania or Sylvia, of such-and-such a paga tavern, even considered the possibility that these might be former free women of Ar, perhaps women thitherto unapproachable, once haughty, vain women, women courted in vain by many, perhaps even by themselves, who had now become slaves, women who must now, in their collars, answerable to the whip, to the best of their ability, serve masters. Perhaps they could even arrange for the purchase of one of them, not to free her, of course, for it is said that only a fool buys a slave girl, but to take her home and keep her for themselves. Graffiti, too, in Gorean public places, as the markets and baths, is not uncommon. Whereas this graffiti is mostly of a predictable sort, as one might expect, names, proclamations of love, denunciations of enemies, obscenities, and such, some of it is, in my opinion, at least, of quite high quality. For example, poets not unoften use the walls to publish their work, so to speak. Indeed, it is said, though I do not know with what truth, that Pentilicus Tallux, for whom the great theater is named, first inscribed his poetry on walls. Needless to say, readers then often feel free to write their own comments on he poems, or even to edit them. More than one critic, I fear, had been found bloodied at the base of such a wall. Indeed, there is a story abroad that Pentilicus Tallux himself, whose work is noted for its restraint and delicacy, figured in more than one fracas of that sort. One story had it that he slew seven men in formal duels alone. *Twice in the manuscript, later, Cabot refers to a "Flute Street." From the context it seems clear that this is "Aulus." I have accordingly edited the manuscript in the interests of consistency, changing "Flute Street" to "Aulus." My interpretation is supported by information supplied by a colleague in the Classics Department, to the effect that there is a Greek expression for a flute which might be transliterated as aulos. I think we may assume then, apart from contextual considerations, that «Aulus» and "Flute Street" are the same streets bordering the great theater, that of Pentilicus Tallux. Flute music is apparently extremely important in Gorean theater. Indeed, we learn from Cabot's miscellaneous notes that the name of the flute player usually occurs on theatrical advertisements immediately after that of the major performer or performers. It seems the flute player is often on stage and accompanies performers about, pointing up speeches, supplying background music and such. This is accepted as Gorean theatrical convention, it seems, much as locations as city streets, airplanes, life rafts and deserts. Various «modes» are supposed, as well, to elicit and express various emotions, some being appropriate for love scenes, others for battle scenes, etc. Lastly it might be mentioned that "Aulus' can also occur as a Gorean masculine name. This sort of thing is familiar, of course, in all languages, as Smith, Cooper, Chandler, Carpenter, Carter, and such, stand for occupations, and names like Hampshire, Lake, Holm, Rivers, and such, stand for places, and names like Stone, Hammer, Rock, and such, stand for things. a€”J.N.