Lykos was standing on the wagon bench of the first wagon, with a Builder’s glass, scanning the horizon.
“What do you see?” asked Astrinax.
“Nothing,” said Lykos, closing the glass.
“How long must we wait here?” asked Desmond.
“I do not know,” said Astrinax.
“But you do know we must wait?” said Desmond.
“Yes,” said Astrinax.
Jane, Eve, and I, the wagons halted, had come forward.
When Master Desmond turned about, I knelt near him, that I might be before him. This required courage, more courage each day. I shook with fear. I knew that I had been found displeasing. I did not wish to be intrusive, and be punished. Too, I had the natural temerity of the slave before the free person. If a slave lacks this temerity, it is something she soon learns. A slave may desire her master, long for him, want more than anything to surrender herself wholly and unquestioningly to him, ache for him with all the flames of love, yearn to submit herself to him as no more than a negligible, meaningless, helpless, loving beast, be willing to die for him, but, too, she may well fear him, for the whip is his, and he is master.
But I was desperate.
Please, oh, Master, I thought, be kind. See Allison! She is here, before you. See her!
I looked up at him.
I could hardly catch my breath before him. Had I been able to speak, I would scarcely have been able to form words. Surely I would have stammered. I fear my lip trembled.
How different he was from the men of Earth!
How helpless, and slave, I was, on my knees before him.
I wanted him to pay me attention. I wanted him to find me acceptable once more, as he had before, as the animal I was, a slave, but perhaps one of some interest. Please, oh, Master, I thought, let me speak, let me speak! I have so much I want to say, so much I want to tell you, so much for which to beg forgiveness! Yes, I so wanted to be permitted to speak, and yet, now, some days since my sentencing, I feared even to beg mutely for the restoration of that coveted privilege, lest even that might displease him. It would be done, the sentence’s rescinding, if at all, at his wish, not mine. But as much as I wished to be allowed to speak, and as much as that deprivation cost me in helplessness and misery, what hurt me most was his neglect, his ignoring of me. I think I would have rejoiced had I been cuffed or kicked, or tied to a ring and beaten, for then, at least, I would have known myself as a reality, however negligible and contemptible, in his world. Even a girl in a collar wants to be seen, to be recognized, and noticed, even be it to no greater extent than being mocked, humiliated, and scorned.
Jane and Eve were present, with me, near the first wagon.
He turned away.
“Please, Master!” cried Jane, falling to her knees. “Master!” said Eve.
Master Desmond turned to regard them.
“Please, Master,” said Jane. “Please permit Allison to speak! I do not know what she did, but I am sure she is sorry. She has suffered much. Please let her speak!”
“Yes, Master,” said Eve. “We beg it for her, as she cannot speak! Please let Allison speak.”
“She is only a slave, a collar girl, as we! Please be kind, Master!” said Jane.
“Forgive her, Master,” said Eve. “She is miserable! She is penitent! Please, Master!”
“It seems,” said Master Desmond, “that you two wish to be placed in the modality of the mute slave, as well.”
“No, Master!” said Jane.
“No, no, Master!” wept Eve.
“There is a wide place here, a clearing, for wagons,” said Master Desmond. “We are not the first wagons to stop here, nor will we be the last. Work parties camp here, perhaps others, hunting parties, and such. There will be a well about. Find it. Fetch water, water the tharlarion, and rub them down.”
“Yes, Master,” said Jane, leaping up.
“Yes, Master,” said Eve, leaping to her feet, as well.
He then turned to me.
He was looking upon me!
“Your friends are foolish,” he said.
I made a tiny sound, a grateful, single sound. Tears were in my eyes.
Had they thought to sway a Gorean male? Had they no sense of the discipline under which their chain sister had been placed? How dared they think of interceding, of interfering? Did they not know the risk they undertook? I supposed not. Perhaps they did not yet understand they were slaves. Had they not yet ascertained the significance of their collars, what it meant to be in a collar? Many masters, I was sure, would have had them bound and lashed for their temerity. The will of masters is not to be questioned. The head is to be bowed before the master’s will.
“I would not have thought,” said he, “that a slave such as you would have had friends.”
I did not understand his words. How was it that he might think so of me? Ela, I could not speak!
Then I recalled that Astrinax, now with the caravan, long ago, had arranged my purchase from Menon, on behalf of the gambling house. I recalled both Astrinax and Menon had thought I would be a good buy for such a place, a girl willing to wheedle and smile, to pretend to emotions of excitement and enthusiasm, one who could adroitly feign dismay and sympathy, one who would ply customers with drink, urge them to remain at the tables, encourage them to recklessness in wagering, though it might lead to the loss of estates and honor, to shame, vagrancy, and destitution.
But surely they must realize that I was in a collar, that I had no choice in such matters!
Did they want me to do such things poorly? Such duties were easy, and silken. Did they want me to risk the fields, the laundries, the public kitchens, the stables, the mills?
And I remembered the test of the candy.
Of course, I would have stolen the candy, if such might have been accomplished with impunity. What intelligent girl with her wits about her would have forgone such an opportunity? What rational girl, in the conjectured circumstances, would not have done so?
And Astrinax had doubtless brought he in whose charge I was, Master Desmond, into fee!
“Put your head to the dirt,” said Master Desmond. “Keep it there for ten Ehn, and then you may rise, and do as you wish.”
He had not even seen fit to assign me a duty!
As I knelt so, different people passed me, Jane and Eve, with their buckets, and one or two of the free men.
When I rose up, I was crying.
I walked along the side the wagons, toward the back of the wagons. It was hot. Usually there is no one there. It is usually a good place to hide, to be alone. Suddenly I stopped, for, visible from where I stood, under the high channel of the aqueduct, on a distant hill, I saw a sharp flicker of light.
“Ho, slave,” said a voice behind me, that of fierce, bearded Trachinos.
I turned about.
A slave grows accustomed to being looked upon as a slave, having her lineaments frankly appraised, being undressed with a glance, and such.
I was taken in his arms.
He then took a free man’s liberties with the lips of a helpless slave. I whimpered, a weak, half-intended protest. I feared the responsiveness of my body. How weak we are, how needful we are, once a collar is fastened on our neck! Would you be different, noble Mistresses, were one fastened on your neck? Of course, for you are not slaves! Once before, at a night camp, our second day from Venna, he had put his hands on me, as well, and thrust me, standing, back against one of the mighty columns, or pylons, supporting the aqueduct. Astrinax had summoned him to the wagons, and, when he had flung me from him, he had had but a taste of slave.