Few paid them any attention. They might have been merely a master and his slave.
I knelt at the ring and watched them go.
The lock gag was not really uncomfortable. It had, of course, been put on me tightly, effectively. The fellow apparently knew how to do such things. It had not been put on me cruelly, then, nor in such a way as to hurt me. It had been put on me in the usual way such a device is put on a slave-not cruelly, nor in such a way as to hurt her, but simply that a snug, tight, perfect efficiency.
I had worn one once before, in the pens.
It was the same.
To be sure there are few things that so convince a woman of her helplessness than to be gagged. The blindfold is another such device, of course. Imagine the helplessness, dear reader, should there ever be such, of this account, of being gagged and blindfolded, and bound. You might then have some sense as to what it might be to be in the power of others, to be as a slave.
Such terrors are not that unusual in a slave. They are useful in her control and domination.
I was muchly bared. I wore two rags. By means of one of these my breasts were haltered high. The other, skirtlike, open on the left, was tied about my waist. My wrists were braceleted behind me. I was chained by the neck to the slave ring.
I watched the scarlet-clad figure and the Lady Constanzia growing smaller, across the terrace. She was exquisite, and, in the past days, had become extremely feminine. It was as though she was discovering herself, and blossoming. She had been learning that men and women were not the same, but extremely different. They are not identicals, but complements. Each sex can be fulfilled only in so far as it becomes true, and honestly and fully true, to its own self. I wondered if the pit master knew what he was doing, letting the Lady Constanzia go free in the city. I watched her figure, tiny now, across the terrace. She wore a brief, modest slave tunic. It was her only garment. It had no nether closure. I did not think that the scarlet-clad figure, who seemed a man of honor, as seem most Gorean males, would take advantage of the lovely, slavelike creature. Indeed, I suspected that it might be he and not she who would be forced to impose fierce constraints upon himself. I suspected that it might be he who would be forced to resist the please, and offerings, of a woman who, it seemed, at his feet, could be only a slave. I trusted the Lady Constanzia, you see, less than I did him. He was, I thought, the sort of man who would not, without permission, make use of another’s slave. Could he resist the love in her eyes, I wondered, the trembling of her body, so ready for the collar? He might have to cry out with rage, and cuff her from him, or spurn her away, she sobbing, with his foot. In any event, I was pleased that she had had slave wine. But what did I know of these things? Perhaps it was his plan to abduct her, as a slave bauble. Perhaps she would find herself gagged and bound, and held tightly in a closed slave sack. But could he get her out of the city? I doubted it. This was no ordinary city. But would they try to run away together? Was that their plan? What would be the case when we did not return to the depths at the proper time, the fifteenth bar? Was this the meaning of the lock gag, that I might be found here after curfew, and even then would be unable, until the gag was removed, to furnish information? But I did not think they would try to escape. He would surely realize the control of the tarns, the surveillance, the dangers of the mountains. It did not seem likely that any, alone, could survive in them. And if he cared for her, would he risk her, even in an abduction? The quarrels of pursuers might slay her as easily as him. But did she wish, herself, to elude him, and attempt to escape? I did not think so. She was no longer as naive as she had been. Surely she now understood the meaning of her skimpy garment, the significance of the collar on her neck. She had acknowledged to the pit master this morning that she was “as a slave girl.” She would know then that there could be no escape for such as she. But an even stronger chain held her, I thought, the growth of her softness, of her femininity, of her desire to serve, of her need for love, the dawning of her very self consciousness, the coming to understand what she truly was, should be, and wanted. Wherever she was, she would now understand what she was. She had come to understand that she was the sort of woman whose it was to ascend the slave block, humbly, barefoot, and stand there, and be bid upon.
At the very edge of the terrace, the Lady Constanzia turned about and waved to me.
I nodded my head to the. I did not know if they were able to detect the movement, at the distance.
Then they had disappeared.
It was still morning. I looked up at the sun. it would not yet be the ninth bar. The tenth bar signifies the tenth Ahn, or noon. There are twenty Ahn in the day.
I sat back against the wall.
I pretended not to notice as men, passing by, regarded me. Men think nothing on this world of scrutinizing slaves.
Toward noon another slave was chained to a nearby ring, but, an Ahn or so later, her master returned for her and I watched her leave, heeling him. She had excellent legs.
It was now rather warm and so I decided to lie down, at the wall, under the ring, and sleep. The sunlight was red though my closed eyelids. Then I turned to my side, my back to the wall.
I thought of the Lady Constanzia and the scarlet-clad stranger.
In a little while I fell asleep.
24
It can not be so late, I thought, the bar ringing so many times, I have not slept that long. Look, the sun is still high. It can be no more than late afternoon!
I saw two men running across the terrace, robes fluttering behind them.
Far off I saw a woman in the robes of concealment rushing away.
I saw a fellow by the balustrade pointing outward, toward the mountains. “Look!” he was crying. “Look!”
I suddenly became aware that the bars were those of alarm, ringing incessantly.
The pad of the lock gag was in my mouth. The curved metal bars were like a bit between my teeth.
I rose to my knees. Then I rose to my feet. I could stand at the ring, as the leash permitted it.
I could hear other bars, too, now, about the city.
“There!” cried the fellow by the balustrade.
I went to the end of the chain. I stood up on my tiptoes, even pulled the ring up.
I could see, now, over the balustrade, a line of tarns, perhaps some twenty or so, knifing their way toward some part of the city, to my right, beyond the bridge, beyond the docking area.
They are not of this city, I thought. They are strangers! It is a raid! They have come through the defenses!
I, standing, watched them.
They seemed placid enough, so far away, moving swiftly, in single file, toward the right, toward some other part of the city.
Perhaps they had moved in stages, by night, coming closer and closer to the city, concealing themselves by day in ravines, now, at this time of day, making their dash toward the city. They might have three Ahn until darkness. That was quite possible the time they had allotted for their work. Then they would doubtless attempt to withdraw, their work done, whatever it might be, under the cover of darkness.
Then I turned back toward the wall, in a rattle of chain, for a gigantic shadow, frightening me, fleeting and wild, had been cast upon the wall. It was a tarnsman of the city, hurrying forth, overhead, to intercept the raiders. Behind him there came two more. One of the tarns screamed. It was an incredibly loud, frightening, piercing sound. It rang from the wall.
What could twenty men, or so, do against a city?
The line of tarns in the distance had no disappeared.
Surely it could be only a token raid, a response, a reprisal, at best.
A line of guardsmen hurried across the terrace.