She then went to the second guardsman, who, doubtless aware of the futility of resistance, turned his head angrily away. “Forgive me, Master,” said Ellen. In a moment, however, he raised his head, and moaned softly. “A slave begs to please Master,” she whispered. “But, alas, even if he does not wish it, she must please him, for she is so commanded. He has no choice. She has no choice. Both are choiceless, he bound, she commanded. Forgive me, Master.” Then in a moment, she said, “Oh,” softly. “Forgive a slave, but she thinks that master is pleased. She hopes that that is the case. Surely she will do her best to give him pleasure.”
In a little while she went to the third guardsman, and then to the fourth. Kneeling beside the fourth, her wrists moved a little in the closely fitting, light steel bracelets behind her. It was a tiny thing, but, as often, it was muchly arousing to her. So simply was she reminded that she was embonded. She then felt herself very much a slave, felt herself very much what she was. Then, putting her head down, she bent humbly to his body, to please him.
****
Scarcely had Ellen backed away, on her knees, bent humbly, head down, from the fourth guardsman, that she might not rise to her feet at his side, this perhaps being taken as insolence, he supine and bound, than she heard, vaguely, obscurely, not really registering it at first, as she now recalls it, some sounds, some sort of commotion in the camp, in the distance. She stood up, unsteadily. Her dark hair, slave long now, was about her face. She tossed her head, trying to throw it behind her. She smiled. She hoped she had done well. Certainly she, a slave, might be severely punished if she had not done well. She had certainly tried to do well. Perhaps one of the most difficult things for an Earth woman to understand in the case of the female slave, unless of course she herself is a slave, is that one of the most significant fears known to the female slave is that she may not be found fully pleasing. You see, there are consequences for such lapses. Anything less than perfection of performance is not accepted in a kajira. They are not, after all, inert, vain, independent, quiescent, smug, bored, exalted, spoiled free women. For example, they are not permitted indifference to sex, indifference to appearance, indifference to movement, and such. They are trained and marketed for the service and pleasure of men. It is what they are for. The sounds were far off. She did not pay them much attention at first. She did not think they would have anything to do with her. It was still rather dark. Clouds raced overhead. The night was damp. Two of the three moons were visible. The grass was wet and cold beneath her feet. She touched the bracelets, behind her, to her body. They were cold, and damp. She supposed dew was on them. She licked her lips. On them she could taste the soft, lovely, adhering residue of her service. She shivered a little, in the darkness. She moved her neck in her collar. It identified her as the property of a Gorean, Selius Arconious. I hate him, of course, she thought. Indeed, consider what he has just made me do. But still I am his slave, and must strive to please him. What a lamentable fate, she thought, and smiled. Then suddenly she gathered her wits about her, and strained to listen. Two of the guardsmen must have heard the sounds, too, for they were struggling to free themselves. Quickly then Ellen hurried from the declivity concealing the guardsmen. A few yards away there was a small fire, and several men were gathered about it. There were some wagons rolled about, as well, but they were muchly dark, in the shadows.
Ellen hurried to the fire, and knelt.
Selius Arconious was there, and Portus Canio, and Fel Doron, and others, including the red-haired man, he so much like a larl, claimedly from Port Kar, it seemed of the Warriors, and his fellow, the dark-haired, lithe man, said to be of Ar’s Station, also it seemed of the Warriors, which was somewhere to the north. Ellen’s arrival was no more noticed than might have been that of a dog.
She knelt beside Selius Arconious, knees wide, her head down.
“The sought tarnster has been detected!” she heard, a cry from several yards away.
“He is escaping!” she heard.
“He has stolen a tarn!”
“Pursuit will be mounted!” called another man, from somewhere in the darkness.
“He will be apprehended!” someone shouted. “Tarnsmen will be aflight in moments!”
“Should we not exhibit some interest in these matters?” asked Fel Doron.
“Certainly,” grinned Portus Canio, and rose to his feet. “What is going on?” he called into the darkness.
“The fellow who had Cosian gold is trying to escape the camp!” said a tharlarion driver, coming into the circle of firelight.
“And well he might,” said another fellow, coming toward the fire. “He would doubtless be turned up promptly enough with the coming of daylight.”
“I wonder if they will catch him,” said Selius Arconious.
Ellen shuddered.
“The slave is cold,” said one of the newcomers.
Selius Arconious took a blanket and threw it about Ellen’s shoulders. She welcomed its warmth.
Can it be that my master cares for me, she asked herself. As much would be done for a shivering kaiila, of course, she told herself. But she then thought that it would much more likely have been done for a shivering kaiila than for a slave, the kaiila being likely to be a much more valuable animal. Indeed, sometimes the slave is left shivering, that she may the better understand herself as a slave, and all the more dependent on the master. But he gave me a blanket, she thought. Perhaps I will be able to dominate him? Then she fearfully put aside that thought, for she knew she would never be able to dominate Selius Arconious, or any Gorean male. She could never be before such anything but a docile, humble, obedient, frightened, conquered, submitting slave. They were such men. But perhaps he likes me, she thought. He has given me a blanket. I must keep clearly in mind that I hate him! Then she put her head down and tried not to move, not wishing to lose the blanket. She could not hold it, or adjust it, with her hands, as they were still braceleted behind her. There is a technique which might be mentioned, for those interested in such matters, by which a back-braceleted slave girl can wrap herself in a blanket if she is permitted to lie down. One spreads the blanket out and grasps it at the bottom between one’s feet, in the center with one’s braceleted hands, and toward the top with one’s teeth, or between the chin and neck, and then rolls oneself in the blanket. This is not taught to us but is something one learns to do quickly enough if one is cold, in a camp, say, or at the foot of the master’s couch. Ellen tried to reach the blanket with her teeth, but could not do so without breaking position. And it slipped down a little, which did not please her.
“He went toward Ar,” said a man.
“They will catch him,” said another.
Their informants then took their leave, hurrying toward other fires in the camp.
“They did not recognize you,” said Portus Canio to Selius Arconious.
“They are not looking for me here,” said Selius Arconious. “Thus they do not see me here.”
“Perhaps we should leave now,” said a man, uneasily. He rose to his feet, looking about.
Another man, too, rose to his feet.
“Yes, perhaps we should leave,” said another fellow, looking at Portus Canio.
“We could travel light,” said another.
“We could leave the baggage, and wagons,” said another.
“And the animals,” said another.