“Should I not have been told?” I said.
“Certainly not,” said Lord Grendel. “You must play your part in total ignorance. An inadvertent look, a mere expression, a lapsed word, a too-ready acquiescence, might have brought about the ruin of the entire plan.”
“Might I not have been killed?” I said.
“No,” said Lord Grendel. “No more than a kaiila or tarsk.”
“The men were hooded,” I said.
“Certainly that, or masked, or veiled,” said Lord Grendel, “that you would be unable to recognize them.”
“I was back-braceleted,” I said.
“To further protect your life,” said Lord Grendel. “Had you been able to offer the least resistance, and had you been so foolish as to have done so, which we feared you might, delaying the theft, or jeopardizing it in any way, you might have been summarily slain. It is possible you owe your life to something as simple as a pair of slave bracelets.”
“Might they now be removed?” I asked.
“Certainly,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I wager,” said the Lady Bina, “there is someone whose bracelets you would like to wear, and perhaps his shackles, as well.”
“Mistress?” I said.
“Someone by whose coin you would like to have been taken off the slave block,” she said.
“I will have to sew my garment,” I said. “It is torn.”
The Lady Bina fingered the tarsk-bit. “When I bought you,” she said, “I thought you might be of interest to men.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
“Is this,” she asked, looking at the coin, “all your use was worth?”
“I had nothing to say about it,” I said. “It was what he gave me.”
“I would have supposed you should have brought twice that,” she said, “two tarsk-bits.”
“Ela,” I said, “Mistress was not there to negotiate.”
“Many men,” said Lord Grendel, “coming upon a luscious kajira, gagged, and secured, helpless, totally at their mercy, in a secluded place, would not pay at all.”
“Would it not be the same with a free woman?” I asked.
“Certainly not,” he said. “The free woman would be instantly freed, succored, and restored to dignity. And if not, if one were so boorish, or foolish, as to risk torture and impalement, one would not pay, anyway, as the free woman is priceless. To give her a coin would be a great insult.”
“And we are quite different?” I said.
“Quite,” said Lord Grendel. “You are not priceless. You are worth what men will pay for you.”
“At least,” I said, “we have some sense then of what we are worth.”
“Of course,” said Lord Grendel.
“But he did pay,” said the Lady Bina.
“That suggests,” said Lord Grendel, “he was well satisfied.”
“Was he well satisfied, Allison?” inquired the Lady Bina.
“I think he was pleased with a slave,” I said.
“And you, Allison,” said the Lady Bina. “Were you well pleased?”
“Please do not make me speak, Mistress,” I said, my head down.
“Speak,” she said.
I looked up at her, tears in my eyes. “I am a slave, Mistress!” I said.
“I understand,” she said. “Excellent.”
“As I understand it,” said Lord Grendel, “a copper tarsk-bit is the usual price for a use, for example, to be placed in the pan beside a secured camp girl, to be put in the chained neck box of a coin girl, and such.”
“Good,” said the Lady Bina. “Then a single copper tarsk-bit is not a negative reflection on the quality of the slave.”
“Not at all,” said Lord Grendel.
“Excellent,” she said.
“And in the taverns,” said Lord Grendel, “a tarsk-bit will usually purchase a goblet of paga, and, if the customer wishes, the use of a paga girl. Sometimes dancers are extra.”
“I am very pleased,” said the Lady Bina, smiling upon me.
“Am I not to be despised?” I asked.
“No,” said the Lady Bina.
“I cannot help myself,” I said.
“Nor should you,” said Lord Grendel. “Rather, you should desire it, with all your heart, to be so alive, and female.”
“But you do not understand,” I said, “how helpless one is!”
“You do not yet know how helpless a slave girl can be,” said Lord Grendel. “When your slave fires are better kindled, you will begin to understand.”
“You may begin to repair your garment,” said the Lady Bina. “After that, you may prepare supper.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
“And thus,” she said, “you see the difference between a mistress and a master.”
“Mistress?” I said.
“A master,” she said, “would doubtless have you prepare supper before repairing the garment, that he might see you serving in a torn tunic.”
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
“Or less,” she said.
“Yes, Mistress,” I said.
Chapter Fifty
“Scribe’s Urt,” had said the Lady Bina, and I located the card, and placed it on the pile.
Only one other card was left, and so she needed not read it. It was Warrior’s Sleen. I placed the last card on the pile. As I suppose is clear, when one wishes to transmit the message, one takes a deck, rearranges the cards, inscribes the message on the edges of the deck, and then replaces the cards in the usual order. The recipient, then, who has the card sheet used for the particular message, places the cards in the order prescribed by the sheet, and, once again, the message is visible. In the Cave, the visible message was in substitutions, a Tau for an Al-Ka, or such, but often enough, now, it was in clear Gorean. Substitutions were still used if the matter was sensitive, but, now, often enough, this layer of security was omitted. All that was sought, frequently enough, now, was a certain level of privacy. To be sure, the message could be in clear Gorean, inscribed openly on a sheet of paper, and it would have remained opaque to me. The Lady Bina would not even tell me the names of the letters, or their values. “You do not need to read, Allison,” she informed me. “I have little doubt, Mistress,” I said, “that you are far more intelligent than I, but I am sure that I, just as you have, might learn to read.” “I am still learning,” she said. “Cursive script is a bother.” “Even so,” I said, “is there that much difference between us?” “There is a considerable difference between us,” she said. “And what is that?” I asked. “Your neck is in a collar,” she said.
When the Lady Bina or Lord Grendel received, or sent, a card message, I was often used. In preparing a message, I would rearrange the cards, randomly, following which the message would be placed on the edges of the deck. After that, I would read the order of the cards that the card sheet might be prepared. After that, I would place the cards again in the normal order, in which case the message disappeared. In receiving a message, which would have the cards in the normal order, as in the current case, the Lady Bina or Lord Grendel would read from the appropriate card sheet, and I would place the cards in the order prescribed by the card sheet, after which they would have the message, either in clear Gorean or in a substitution related to clear Gorean. I was also used to carry these messages back and forth. The wine shop of Amyntas remained a station in this exchange, but only one, to which I would deliver a message or from which I would receive a message, to be returned to the Lady Bina or Lord Grendel, almost always Lord Grendel. Sometimes Lord Grendel would deliver a message somewhere in person, and, sometimes, retrieve a message from some unknown source. This was almost always done at night.