"A silver tarsk, five!" called another fellow.
"A sliver tarsk, ten!" called another.
These offers clearly pleased the Br9igella. They attested her value, which was considerable. Many women sell for less than a silver tarsk. Too, the fellows bidding all seemed strong, handsome fellows, all likely masters. There was not one of them who did not seem capable of handling her perfectly, as the slave she was. I suspected that this Brigella was not destined to long remain a member of the troupe of Boots, Tarsk-Bit.
"Do not interrupt the play," scolded the free woman.
"And not a tarsk-bit for you, lady," laughed one of the men.
The Lady Telitsia of Asperiche stiffened angrily and returned her attention to the stage. "You may continue," she informed the players.
"Why thank you, lady," said Boots Tarsk-Bit.
"Are you being insolent?" she asked.
"No, lady!" exclaimed Boots, innocently.
"She should be whipped," said a man.
The Lady Telitsia did not deign to respond to this suggestion. She could afford to ignore it, disdainfully. she was not a slave. She was a free woman, and above whipping. Too, she was perfectly safe. She was on the protected ground, the truce ground, of the Sardar Fair.
"Here I stand by a public road, stripped as naked as a slave," said the Brigella, confidently, to the audience, "but yet am perfectly concealed by this wondrous veil."
"Are you truly naked?" asked Boots.
"See?" she said to the crowd.
"To be sure!" called one of the men, one of the fellows who had bidden on her.
"Yes," she called out to Boots.
"But how can I know if you are truly naked?" inquired Boots, ogling her.
"You may take my word for it," she said, haughtily, "as I am a free woman."
"With all due respect, noble lady," said Boots, "in a transaction of this momentous nature, I believe it is only fair that I be granted assurances of a somewhat greater magnitude."
"What would you wish?" she asked.
"Might I not be granted some evidence of your putative nudity?" he inquired.
"But, sir," she said, "I have not yet decided whether or not to grant you your peep, that moment of inutterable bliss for which you will, willingly, surrender the wondrous veil to me in its entirety."
"Do not mistake me, kind lady," cried Boots, horrified. "I had in mind only evidence of an ilk most indirect."
"But what could that be?" she inquired, dismayed.
"I dare not think on the matter," he lamented.
"I have it!" she cried.
"What?" he asked, winking at the crowd.
"I could show you my clothing!" she cried.
"But of what relevance might that be?" asked Boots, innocently.
"If you detect that I am not within it," she said, "then might you not, boldly, infer me bare?"
"Oh, telling stroke, bold blow!" he cried. "Who might have conjectured that our problem could have succumbed to so deft a solution!"
"I bundle my clothing," se said, "and place it herewith beneath the edge of the veil, that you may see it."
There was much laughter here, at the apparent innocence of this action. This was extremely meaningful, of course, in the Gorean cultural context. When a female places her clothing at the feet of a man she acknowledges that whether or not she may wear it, or other garments, or even if she is to be clothed at all, is dependent on his will, not hers. Boots, in effect, in the context of the play, had tricked her into placing her clothing at his feet. This is tantamount to a declaration of imbondment to the male.
"Hold up the veil," said Boots to the Brigella.
"Why, good sir?" she asked.
"I must count the garments," said Boots, seriously.
"Very well," she said. "Oh, the veil is so light!"
"It is exactly like holding nothing up at all," Boots granted her.
"Exactly," she said. Boots then made a great pretense of counting the garments. The Brigella turned to the audience, as though holding up the cloth between herself and them. "He is so suspicious, and has such a legalistic mind," she complained. Meanwhile Boots thrust the garments into his pack.
"I trust that all is in order," said the Brigella.
"It would seem so," said Boots, "unless perhaps you are now wearing a second set of garments, a secret set, which was cleverly concealed beneath the first set."
"I assure you I am not," she said.
"I suppose even in matters this monumentous," said Boots, "there comes a time when some exchange of trust is in order."
"Precisely," said the Brigella.
"Very well," said Boots.
"I do not see my clothing about," said the Brigella to the crowd, "but doubtless it is hidden behind the veil."
"Then!" cried Boots.
"Yes," she said, "you may now, if you wish, infer, and correctly, sir, that behind this opaque veil I am bare."
"Utterly?" he asked.
"Utterly," she said.
"Oh, intrepid inference!" cried Boots. "I can scarcely control myself!"
"You must struggle to do so, sir," she said.
"Hold the veil higher," said Boots. "Higher, lest I be tempted to peep over its rippling, shimmering horizon, daring to look upon what joys lie beyond. Higher!"
"Is this all right?" she asked.
"Splendid!" said Boots.
She now stood with the veil raised high above her head with her arms spread. This lifted the line of her breasts beautifully. Women are sometimes tied in this posture in a slave market. It is a not uncommon display position.
"Ah!" cried Boots. "Ah!"
"The sounds you utter, sir," she said, "would almost make me believe, could I but see them, which, of course, I cannot, that your facial expressions and bodily attitudes might be those of one who looked relishingly upon me."
"Yes," cried Boots, "it is my active imagination, conjecturing what exposed beauty must lie perfectly concealed behind the impervious barrier of that heartless veil."
"And I am a free woman," said the girl to the crowd, "not even a slave." There was laughter. All that she wore now, in actuality, not in the context of the play, of course, in which she was, by convention, understood to be utterly naked, was her collar, concealed by a light scarf, and a circular adhesive patch on her left thigh, concealing her brand.
"Ah!" cried Boots.
"I had best not permit him more than the briefest of peeps," she said, to the audience, "lest he perhaps in rapture go out of his sense altogether."
Boots pounded his thighs.
"Imagine what it might be if he could truly see me," she said.
"Let me, dear lady," said Boots, "hold the veil. Though it be as light as noting itself, yet, by now, your arms, if only from their position, must grow weary."
"Thank you, kind sir," she said. "Do you have it now?"
"Of course," said Boots, as though astonished at her question.
"Of course," she said, lightly. "I just did not wish you to drop it."
"There is little danger of that," he said. "I mean, of course, I will exercise considerable caution in its handling."
He now held the cloth up between them.
"Have you given some thought to the matter of whether or not you will permit me the peep of which we spoke so intriguingly earlier?" he asked.
"Keep holding the veil up high," she said. "Perhaps I will consider giving some thought to the matter."
Suddenly, with a cry of apprehension, looking down the road, Boots snapped away the cloth and whipped it behind his back, seeming to stuff it in his belt, behind his back. "Oh!" she cried in horror, cringing and half crouching down, trying to cover herself as well as she could, in maidenly distress. "What have you done, sir? Explain yourself, instantly!"
"I fear brigand approach," he said, looking wildly down the road. "Do not look! They must not see the wondrous veil! Surely they would take it from me!"